Something About You
by TrevorPhilipsIndustries
Summary: Jane was stuck in a terribly abusive relationship until a dangerous stranger named Trevor came along and saved her. Will Jane choose to stick around throughout all of Trevor's crazy antics? A Prequel to Mr. Philips
1. Little Black Sandals

"Please, Spencer! Let go of my arm! You're hurting me!" I struggled to escape my boyfriend's grip on my upper arm. This wasn't the first time that he had hurt me, but this time was definitely the worst. My skin was marked with bruises, my lip was bloody, and the scratches up and down my arms and legs were proof of my struggle to escape. Spencer had chased me down the dark streets along Vespucci Beach where our apartment was. It was after midnight and everyone was in bed; there was no one to help me.

This was the night, I thought, that Spencer would finally kill me. I gave up, crumbling to the ground as he berated me. I sobbed when I felt his boot collide with my ribs.

"What the fuck?" Spencer hollered. I looked up in confusion to find him holding his jaw in disbelief. Someone had just hit him. He was middle aged, much taller than Spencer, and covered in scars and cuts. Some of them looked like bullet wounds. He donned a pair of torn up, faded blue jeans, rolled up at the ankles, a pair of worn out work boots, and a dirty white t-shirt. He looked insane; not like someone you would see walking around Los Santos. He cracked his knuckles and pulled a pistol out of his waistband. My heart dropped. I could see the fire in his eyes as he raised the weapon to point it at Spencer's head.

"Listen to me, you fuckin' spineless waste of life! I ever see your face again, I'm gonna rip your fucking intestines out through your throat!" He cracked his neck, not loosening his grip on the gun. He gestured at me with his free hand, and continued shouting, "You think you're a fucking man because you beat the living shit outta this woman? Ain't you got a mother? For fuck's sake, you're lucky I don't put a bullet in your goddamn skull right this second! Now, get the fuck outta here and don't let me see you around her ever again! Don't fuck with me, friend!"

Spencer turned on his heel, taking off down the sidewalk. I looked up timidly at my savior. His expression softened when he met my gaze. He had soft, caramel colored eyes, and dark, thinning hair. He was thin, but muscular; I could see why Spencer had looked so terrified of him.

"You alright, darlin'?" He broke the silence. I bit my bloodied lip, trying to hold back tears. I shook my head. The reality of my situation had set in. I had nowhere to live and no belongings. I had alienated myself from my family; they were all the Vinewood Hills phoney type of people. I had always been the black sheep of the family, so when I moved in with Spencer, I had pretty much separated myself from my family. We hadn't spoken in months, and I'd be damned if I went crawling back to them for help. I had no one, and not a cent to my name.

"Takes a real small man to hit a woman," he muttered, extending a hand to me, helping me to my feet. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Jane," I croaked, wiping the blood away from my mouth.

"My name's Trevor."

"Thank you, Trevor," I whimpered. I sounded so pathetic. "He probably would've killed me if you hadn't shown up."

Trevor shook his head in disgust. "I woulda unloaded this whole fuckin' round into his skull."

Something about the way he said it told me that he wasn't kidding. I gripped the strap of my purse; the only thing I had managed to escape with.

"You got somewhere to stay? I can give you a ride."

I shook my head. "You've done plenty, really. I'll figure something out."

"Something tells me you don't have much to your name," he guessed correctly. "C'mon, I can bring you back to Sandy Shores with me. Good place to clear your mind."

"I can't. I can't ask you to do that. Really."

He let out a frustrated huff and rolled his eyes at me. "You're not asking, I'm offering. Now swallow your pride and get in the damn truck, princess. I ain't leaving ya out on the street alone."

I silently obliged, climbing into the rusted old truck he was pointing at. He hopped into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition. My parents had always told me not to get in the car with a stranger. But my alternative wasn't much better. Maybe going all the way out to Blaine County would be a nice break from the mess my life had become.

"So what happened there?" Trevor whipped down the highway, switching between lanes frequently.

"He thought I was cheating on him. I wasn't, for the record. But this wasn't the first time he's done this. This was just the worst."

He shook his head in disgust, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"He's an ugly fuckin' mistake of a man. I don't know you much, but any man who has that little respect for women doesn't deserve a pretty little thing like you."

My face turned red and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I didn't know what to say.

"Oh, don't get all stressed out, I ain't gonna touch ya or anything."

I smiled to myself. I hardly knew this man, but I trusted him. If he had wanted to kill me, he could've done it already; no one would have even noticed I was gone.

"Hey, Trevor," I began, "Do you mind if I just rest for a while? I'm exhausted."

He nodded back at me, glancing in my direction. "You don't gotta ask me for permission, darlin'. Go ahead; I'll wake you up when we get there."

* * *

"Jesus, you're covered in cuts and scratches."

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," I joked. Trevor pulled a plastic box down from the top of his fridge, and sat down next to me on the old, beat up looking couch in his place.

"Lemme fix ya up and then you can get to sleep." I watched as he soaked a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and ran it along the abrasions on my skin. Though his hands were rough and calloused, his touch was surprisingly gentle as he bandaged me up. He seemed almost nervous when he scooted closer to me to clean the blood from my lower lip.

His eyes were soft, and relaxed; nothing like the man I had seen earlier that night, gripping a pistol and shooting off profanities. He smelled like aftershave and cigarette smoke. I noticed a tattoo along his neckline as I studied him; a dotted line with the words "Cut Here." There must have been a story behind that. He shifted uncomfortably when he realized I was studying his face.

"Thanks for doing this. I would've been sleeping on the street tonight if it weren't for you, Trevor." I smiled sweetly at him as he closed up his first aid kit.

"Listen, I'm just glad I can help. And besides," he leaned in close to me, "I'm not in any place to complain about a gorgeous lady sleepin' in my bed." I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Hey, hey," he spat out quickly, "I'm just playin' around. You can have my bed; I'll sleep on the couch."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I would've been happy sleeping on the floor. I was just thankful to have a roof over my head.

"But I wasn't kidding about that last part. You could be in movies with a face like that."

"Thank you," I said softly. "Do you get lonely here?" I blurted out My voice was timid and quiet. I realized immediately after saying it how rude I sounded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that." Trevor stopped for a moment, and looked through me, as if he were deep in thought.

"Sometimes. Other times, the neighbor Ron won't leave me the fuck alone."

I chuckled at his comment. My laugh was hollow and insincere. I was lost in my thoughts.

"I'm so lonely. I've been lonely for so long." Without warning, my eyes welled up with tears, and I felt a sharp pang of embarrassment. Here I was, sitting on a man's couch who I had just met earlier that night, and I was crying in front of him. I was crying, and I couldn't stop myself. "I'm so lonely. I have nobody, now. I've never felt so lost," I sobbed.

Trevor hesitated slightly before gently patting my thigh. "Hey, kiddo, lemme tell ya something. I got no one. Not really; not when it comes down to it. I know how ya feel."

"You never got married or anything?" I asked, wondering if I was prying too much. Trevor laughed sarcastically at my question.

"Do I look like marriage material to you? I'm a goddamn wreck, sweetheart. No one wants to shack up with the town maniac."

I wondered what he was talking about. From what I'd seen of him, he seemed thoughtful and fairly level-headed; a bit rough around the edges, maybe, but easy to get along with. I shrugged, wiping away the tears that had run down my cheeks.

"I think someone would want to be with you. I mean, hey, you saved me tonight and you've given me somewhere to sleep, something to wear, and-" I paused, wondering if I should finish my statement, "I have a new friend."

Trevor raised his eyebrows at me in surprise, a small smile creeping across his face. "Ah, is that so? We're friends now?"

I smiled shyly and nodded at him. He looked at me intently, as if he were carefully and slowly studying my facial features.

"Well," he snapped out of the trance-like state he had been in, "Are ya hungry? Can I make you something to eat? Or I could go out and get something. I'm not much of a cook."

"That's okay, thank you. I'm not really hungry. I'm just tired. I'd just like to go to sleep if that's alright."

"Yeah, of course," he stood up from the sofa, and gestured at his bedroom. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep out here on the couch."

He led me into his bedroom, which was as messy as the rest of his place. It was small and dimly lit, with an unmade bed against the back wall and a broken TV on a dresser against the front wall. Clothes were strewn across the room and there were beer bottles all over the floor.

"Hopefully the bed is comfortable enough for you." He stood awkwardly in the doorway, and I suddenly felt shy again as I climbed into his bed.

"Thank you, Trevor. For everything. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come along."

He nodded at me, and sat down at the end of the bed. "It's gonna get better, ya know. It might get a lot more shitty first, but it's gonna get better."

I took his hand in mine as he stood up to leave the room. "Can you stay? And sleep in here with me?" I felt silly making such an inappropriate request. He cocked an eyebrow at me in confusion. "I just... I don't want to be alone."

He moved back into the room slowly, and climbed under the covers with me without saying a word, and turned onto his side, facing away from me. He hadn't bothered to turn off the light, but I was too tired to care. I laid beside him, looking at the ceiling. Within minutes, he was already asleep, quietly snoring. I turned away from him and shuffled backwards towards him so that my back was touching his. He was warm and his presence made me feel safe. Maybe I would stay in Sandy Shores for a while.


	2. Woke Up New

It was eleven o'clock in the morning and I awoke in the worst pain I'd ever felt. My ribs ached as I turned over, and the black bruises that covered my body like a dalmatian felt tender and swollen. The wounds that Trevor had bandaged the night before stung and caught on the gauze that covered them. My face became damp with tears as I sat up slowly, letting out a pathetic sounding whimper as my joints popped and snapped.

Trevor had already gotten up, and the trailer was still and quiet. I rolled over and sat up at the edge of the bed. I ran my fingers through my hair as I wandered into the living room. Trevor was nowhere to be found. I wondered what to do while I waited for him to get back from wherever he was. I settled for flipping through the channels on the little TV in the corner of the room. I had just stumbled upon a rerun of Princess Robot Bubblegum when Trevor burst through the door, looking positively elated to see me.

"Mornin', gorgeous!" I looked up at him from the couch. He was carrying an armful of plastic bags and what looked like a paper takeout bag from a restaurant. "I come bearing gifts!"

"Gifts?" I repeated, sounding surprised.

"Well, what kinda host would I be if I didn't feed you?" He held up the takeout bag with a grin.

"What's all the... Stuff?" I asked, pointing at the plastic bags.

"You need some stuff to wear, right? Unless of course, you want to walk around in the nude, which I won't discourage."

I ignored his commentary. "Oh, Trevor, thank you so much. You really didn't have to do that."

He rushed over to sit beside me, and began pulling articles of clothing out of the bags. "It's nothin' special, but I tried my best to find some stuff you'd like." I picked through the clothes, impressed with his selections. There were a few t-shirts; Lovefist, Pisswasser, and Impotent Rage. I picked up a pair of faded blue jeans and some black denim shorts. Not bad.

"I didn't know your size; hopefully it all fits okay."

My cheeks turned red as I picked up a pile of lacy underwear and bras. Trevor wiggled his eyebrows at me and flashed me a suggestive grin.

"I may have checked the tag on your bra while you were asleep."

"These are..." I held up a matching set of powder blue panties and a bra, covered in white lace, "Really nice, actually."

"What do you think are the chances of me getting to see you model those?" Trevor playfully poked me on the arm.

I giggled at him as he stuffed the clothes back into the plastic bags. He pushed them aside and grabbed the takeout bag off of the counter.

"Bagels!" He exclaimed as he emptied out the contents of the bag. He handed me what looked like a sesame bagel with cream cheese, wrapped in parchment paper. I immediately opened it up and bit into it, realizing how hungry I was, and Trevor did the same.

"Thank you for everything, Trevor. I don't know what I would've done without you. I don't know what I'm going to do from here, actually. I don't have a job or any money. I have nowhere to live."

Trevor swallowed a bite of bagel and spoke up, "Sure ya do. Right here. You can stay as long as you need, beautiful."

I shook my head. "No, I can't ask that of you. I'll take you up on that for another night, but I should really go after that."

Trevor's expression shifted to one of concern as he responded, "But I don't want you to go." He leaned back into the sofa, trying to appear casual, and said nonchalantly, "I mean... It's nice havin' you here. I don't often have company that I actually enjoy being around. Besides, you're all banged up and you need a couple days to recover before you go out lookin' for jobs or somewhere to live."

"I guess that's true. Thank you, Trevor." I crumpled up the parchment paper from my bagel as I finished eating and stuffed it back into the takeout bag. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Not at all, darlin'." He pulled a towel out of the closet for me, and I headed into the bathroom, sliding the door closed behind me.

The warm water felt nice against my skin. I closed my eyes as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. I wondered to myself what Trevor did to keep himself busy; what he did for a living and who he spent his time with. I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. I looked around the bathroom, realizing I had forgotten to grab clothes.

"Hey Trevor," I called timidly, "Could you grab me something to wear?"

The bathroom door slid open a bit, and he reached his hand in, holding a pile of clothes, along with my purse.

"Don't worry, I ain't lookin'."

I smiled to myself. Here I was, staying in a rundown trailer with a man who, quite frankly, looked like he was up to no good, and I felt safer than I ever had before. Spencer looked clean cut and well-dressed, but he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Trevor was different; tattooed, messy, and covered in scars. But he was kind and giving. I wondered how this was the same man who had held up a gun to Spencer's head and threatened to kill him.

I pulled my brush from my purse and slowly combed out the tangles in my hair, wincing slightly as I tugged at the knots. I poked through the clothes Trevor had given me. I slipped on a pale pink and black bra and a pair of matching panties, followed by the black denim shorts and the Lovefist t-shirt. As I put on makeup in the dirty bathroom mirror, I wondered why I even cared so much about how I looked.

"There she is, as gorgeous as ever!" Trevor threw his hands up in the air dramatically when he saw me emerge from the bathroom. I felt my cheeks turn pink as he ogled me. I moved past him to sit down on the couch, folding my hands in my lap. Trevor stood in front of the fridge, twisting the cap off of a beer.

"Hey, Trevor," I spoke up, "What do you do? For work, I mean? How do you keep busy?"

"Oh, about that," he mumbled quietly, sounding concerned. "I figured this would come up."

I sat waiting patiently, a bit worried about what kind of can of worms I had just opened up.

"I uh- I sell meth. And rob banks. I also do a bit of gun-running."

My heart dropped as I processed what he had just said. This man was a criminal. He made a living off of stealing from banks and selling drugs. He had become so human to me that I had never considered that maybe he did something less than favorable for a living. I wondered if I should run, choosing instead to press him for more information.

"You're a criminal?"

"Well, if you wanna get technical; yes, I am. I've never really done much that regular people would approve of."

"Oh. Wow."

He looked almost disappointed by my response. "That's it?"

"I don't really know what to say," I admitted. "Normally, I would probably take off right about now."

"But you just can't resist my charm?" He cut me off with a cocky grin.

I smiled back at him, running a hand through my damp hair. "Something like that."

"Hey," he changed the subject, "Let's go out to the city and get your things." He took a swig of his beer and looked at me expectantly, waiting for a response.

"I can't go back there. Spencer is there." I felt a sharp pang of fear as I thought about going back to my old apartment and seeing Spencer there.

"What, do ya think I'm gonna let him hurt you or somethin'? He'll be a dead man if he tries anything." He paused, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eye. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded at him. Suddenly, my throat felt dry.

"Well, then, let's go get your shit. It's yours; you deserve to get it back. I ain't gonna let you sit out here with no belongings and nothing to your name. C'mon. We can do whatever you want while we're out there. We can stay out there for the night, if you want."

"I wouldn't be opposed to going to the beach," I suggested with a shrug. I hadn't been to the beach in about a week, and I always felt peaceful sitting in the sand, looking at the water. I hoped that he would say yes.

"As you wish, beautiful!" He bowed dramatically at me, and I stifled a giggle. He gathered the bags of clothes he had bought me and extended a hand to me to help me up from the couch. I was going on a day trip with a criminal. My mother would have had a coronary if she knew.

* * *

The drive out to the city was fairly quiet, aside from Channel X blaring through the speakers in Trevor's truck. It wasn't an awkward sort of silence; it felt comfortable, as if we were both just enjoying each other's company. I felt safer and more comfortable with a bank robber and drug dealer than I had in a long time.

By the time we pulled up outside of my apartment, my heart was hammering in my chest. I knew Spencer would be home; it was his day off. I fought back the urge to cut and run as I raised a shaky hand to knock on the door. Before I could do so, Trevor had kicked the door open, storming inside in front of me. I heard Spencer yelling already.

"What the fuck is going on? Why is he here?" Spencer had leapt off the couch, and was staring at both Trevor and I in disbelief.

"She's come back for her shit," Trevor growled. "Try anything and you're a dead man."

Spencer rushed towards me, leaving a large space between himself and Trevor. "Jane! I was worried about you. I was hoping you'd come back." I wrenched my hands away from his as he tried to grab onto me. Before I had time to speak, Trevor had grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into the wall beside us.

"Get your things packed up, sweetheart," Trevor told me calmly. "You," he pointed at Spencer, "Get me a drink."

Spencer looked indignant as he followed me towards the bedroom. "Who the hell is this guy, Jane?! What the fuck is going on?"

"I thought I told you to get me a drink!" I heard Trevor holler from the living room. "I'm not gonna ask you again!"

Spencer sighed, heading back out into the main living area. I quickly pulled my suitcase and a variety of duffel bags and overnight bags out of the closet and began shoving my clothes into them. I grabbed the various knick knacks from my nightstand and tossed them into my suitcase. I dragged my luggage out of the bedroom towards the front door, and found Trevor sprawled out on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand. He looked perfectly calm and collected. Meanwhile, Spencer was pacing back and forth, looking like an animal in a cage.

"Jane!" Spencer sounded desperate as he spoke up. "Please, don't leave. We can talk about this!"

"I'm done with you, Spencer." I tried to sound confident as I answered him, but my voice betrayed me, sounding weak and shaky.

"C'mon, I know I messed up, but I'll try harder!"

I shook my head, turning my back to him as I went to grab the rest of my bags. He heaved a sigh of disappointment; or anger. I couldn't tell which.

"She's done with you, my friend!" Trevor sounded positively elated as he hopped up from his place on the couch. He slapped a hand down on Spencer's shoulder, looking rather amused. "Not like you ever deserved her in the first place."

My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Spencer was becoming angry. "Who is this guy, Jane? Why is he here?"

"Name's Trevor. And I'm here so you don't try any shit like ya did last night." Trevor seemed completely unbothered by the entire situation. I bustled around the living room, grabbing some photos off of the walls and gathering some of my belongings that I had scattered around.

"So what, Jane, now you're with this fucking crazy guy, or what? What's going on?" Spencer was now angrily stalking around the apartment behind me. Trevor stood by the front door, studying a framed piece of art on the wall, seeming rather unimpressed. My breath caught in my throat when I felt Spencer's hand grip my forearm, attempting to pull me back towards him. Trevor moved towards us before I even had time to pull my arm away. His eyes were dark and full of rage.

"What did I FUCKING tell you? Are you asking me to break your goddamn arm?!" I watched in disbelief as Trevor pulled Spencer towards him, kneeing him in the stomach before sending his fist crashing into Spencer's jaw. Spencer howled in pain as he crumpled in a heap on the floor. Trevor turned on his heel, calmly looking in my direction.

"Ya ready to go, gorgeous?"

I nodded meekly at him, rushing to pick up a few of my bags. I tried not to show my fear as I headed towards the door.

"It's been a pleasure, my friend!" Trevor called back to Spencer as he helped me out with my suitcase. "Thanks for the drink!"

I was quiet as Trevor pulled out onto the road, and I stared down at my hands, which were folded neatly in my lap.

"Did I scare you?" Trevor asked softly. I shook my head, unconvincingly, and I fought back the tears which had threatened to spill out onto my cheeks. Trevor glanced over at me.

"Hey, hey, hey." He pulled the truck over onto the side of the road, shifting into park, and turned to face me. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just- I saw him put his hands on you, and it just- it made me angry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I sniffled. "Thank you for helping me get my things. I figured I would just have to start over."

Trevor responded with a simple nod of his head, and pulled back out onto the road. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, seeming lost for words.

"Where are we going?" I blurted out.

"Thought we'd get somethin' to eat." He was quiet, and seemed almost distracted by his own thoughts. We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke up again. I wondered if I had done something wrong. Maybe he regretted coming out here, or maybe I seemed ungrateful for the help he had given me.

"Why did you stay with him?"

"What?"

"Why did you stay with him? After he hurt you all those times?"

"I don't know," I mumbled, trying to keep my composure. My eyes were still watery and I fought the urge to start crying again. "I just wanted him to love me."

"He didn't deserve you. I just-" He paused, gripping the steering wheel hard. "If you were mine, I would always make sure you felt safe. I would never do that to you."

I smiled to myself. "Thank you, Trevor."

* * *

"Come join me!" I shouted to Trevor, who sat in the sand a ways back, contentedly watching me wade through the cool water. The sun had already gone down, and we looked at each other in the light from our bonfire. He shook his head at me.

"I'd rather watch you."

"Please?" I pleaded with him again. He heaved an exasperated sigh, and brushed the sand off of his jeans as he stood up. He joined me where the water met the sand, not going in any further than his shins.

I pointed towards his feet. "You're getting your jeans all wet."

He shrugged. "Who cares?" I snuck glances at him as he looked out over the water. His features looked sharp and hardened in the firelight. His scars stood out more; his jawline was more defined, and his hazel eyes lit up and turned to a warm caramel color.

"I can see you staring at me," he said quietly, clearly trying to get a rise out of me. "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

I immediately looked down at my feet, feeling my face heat up and turn red. I stuttered, trying to think of something to say in response. He chuckled to himself, still looking at the darkened horizon.

"Why do you do that?" I scrunched up my nose in frustration.

"Do what?"

"Try to get to me," I expanded on my previous question.

"Because," he began, sounding pleased with himself, "You make it so easy."

"I do not!"

He turned to look at me, a smile spreading across his face. "I do not!" He mimicked me in a high pitched voice. I laughed, reaching down to scoop up enough water to splash him with. His smile disappeared as the salty sea water splashed across his face. He wiped it off with his shirt sleeve, and he looked almost angry. I backed up, fearing the worst. When Spencer got angry, I knew what was coming. It had become second nature for me to recoil at the first hint of anger.

"I-I'm sorry!" I squeaked. His expression softened when he saw my reaction, and he stepped forward, slowly closing the gap between us. I flinched when he gently placed his hands on my upper arms.

"Hey, hey, hey, beautiful," he said gently. His voice was soft, and if his face hadn't been so close to mine, I probably wouldn't have been able to hear him. "I know what that ugly sack of shit did to you, but I will never hurt you." His eyes searched mine for something; I wasn't sure of what. "Sweetheart, you could shoot me in the goddamn leg and I wouldn't lay a hand on you. If that fucking snake had half a brain, he would've seen what he had in front of him."

I tried to hide the fact that I had just teared up at his words. It hit me as he spoke that I hadn't really processed what had happened with Spencer. I almost died that night; just down the street from where I currently stood on the beach with Trevor. Spencer would have killed me. I knew it deep down. I had tried to avoid facing that fact. Facing it made it feel real, and I felt like an idiot for ever letting it go so far. All of those times he apologized and begged for my forgiveness; I should've known all along that it would eventually come down to what happened that night.

"Trevor," I nearly whispered, wiping a tear away from my cheek, "Why are you doing all of this for me?"

He looked past me and opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again. I could tell he was unsure of what to say. "I don't get close to people often. Most of 'em betray me or double cross me. You; you're different. I can tell you're different. I could tell right away."

"You're very sensitive for a bank robber turned meth dealer, you know that?" I tried to hide the smile that threatened to creep across my face.

"You're not bothered by the fact that I do all that shit?" He messed with his hair as he spoke, sounding confused.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of a response. After a long silence, I spoke up. "Not really, I guess. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I didn't panic for a minute when you first told me. Maybe my moral compass is skewed or maybe I don't know what's good for me. My parents would have a heart attack if they knew. But you saved me. Anyone who stuck their neck out like that for me can't be all bad."

"You're not scared of me." He stated it, rather than asking it as a question. It was more of an observation.

"Why? Should I be?" I smirked at him.

"Well," he sighed, wetting his lips with his tongue, "I am the kind of guy that every girl's parents dread her bringing home."

I raised an eyebrow at him, the same smirk still spread across my face. "Who said I'm bringing you home?"

"Well, technically, I brought you home... And you did sleep in my bed." His words were long and drawn out. He was clearly having too much fun with this. "So it seems to me that maybe you want a little more than just bringing me home to mom and dad. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you felt some type'a way about me."

"You're delusional." I scoffed at him, digging my toes into the sand under my feet. I hoped that he wouldn't notice the way I had squirmed as I felt my stomach tighten. I felt nervous. Why did I feel nervous? Trevor chuckled to himself, turning his direction back out to the horizon.

"Should we find somewhere to stay? Or do you wanna just head back?"

"We can just go back to Sandy Shores," I shrugged. "I kinda wanna get away from the city."

"Whatever you'd like, princess. Happy to oblige." He grinned at me. I could've sworn at that moment that I felt my heart do a little flip in my chest.


	3. When We Were Young

"RON! Get the fuck over here before I drag you over here myself!"

I woke up to Trevor yelling out the front door. I slipped on a clean shirt and pulled my tangled hair up into a messy bun.

"Trevor?" I asked as I padded into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes sleepily. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up, princess. I got myself into some shit that I gotta deal with, and I'm gonna need you to stay here while I sort things out."

I leapt back as the front door swung open, and an older looking man stumbled in. He looked incredibly nervous as he adjusted his glasses and spoke up. "What's going on, boss?"

"Those FUCKING O'Neils are steppin' in on my business again!" Trevor raised his voice, working himself up into a rage. "I'm gonna kill every one of 'em!"

"Boss, are you sure it's a good idea to go over there right now? Th-there's a lot of them and only a couple of us," Ron asked timidly.

"Are you questioning my fucking logic?" Trevor snapped. Ron shook his head frantically. "Then let's go! Call Wade on the way and tell him to meet us there."

He stormed into the bedroom and emerged with a pump shotgun, pausing before heading out the front door. He looked at me, trying to process the right words to say. "Just... Don't go anywhere. There's food in the fridge and some cereal in the cabinets. I'll be back in a while." For the first time since we met, he seemed curt and his words were abrupt. I could tell as he left that he was aggravated and stressed out.

I tried not to think too much about what he was out doing while I showered, but my curiosity was growing as the day went on. A few hours later, while I was watching TV, Trevor came barreling into his trailer, making me jump when the door slammed.

"Hi," I mumbled, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

He mustered up a weak smile, and ran his hands through his hair. "Sorry I left you like that earlier. Things got a little messy."

"I can tell," I responded. He was covered in dirt and what looked like dried blood; hopefully not his own. I turned my attention to my phone as he disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on. About ten minutes later, he emerged again, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. I tried to hide the fact that I was staring at him as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. He was more fit than I thought. He looked... Pretty good, actually. I snapped out of it when he spoke to me.

"I think it's time we discuss things a bit better."

I nodded in agreement, sliding over a bit on the couch to make room for him to sit beside me.

"I'm not a good guy, Jane," he said simply.

"I think-"

He cut me off, sounding almost angry with himself. "I'm not. I kill people. I steal. I'm wreckless and I have a nasty drug habit. I'm not a good person."

I sat quietly, staring at him with wide eyes. Unsure of what to say, I waited for him to speak again.

"That being said, I understand if you want to leave." He sighed and took a swig of his beer. "Just know, I would never do any of that shit to you. I know this place ain't much, but you can stay here as long as you want."

"Thank you," I responded quietly. Truthfully, I didn't quite understand why I wanted to stay. A few days ago, I was living a somewhat normal life in my cushy almost beach-side apartment, and now here I was, in a beat up trailer in Sandy Shores, staying with a hardened criminal. But I was happier than I'd been in a while. Something about Trevor kept me wanting more. He was honest with me, and despite everything he had told me about himself, I trusted him.

"You don't want to leave?"

"No, I'd like to stay, if that's alright," I answered. He grinned at me, suddenly coming back to life.

"Let's unpack your things, eh?" He hopped to his feet and headed into the bedroom, where I had left most of my bags. I watched as he nearly emptied his wardrobe, haphazardly throwing all of his clothes into his dresser. "This is yours, now." I thanked him, moving past him to hang up some of my clothes, and he made himself busy, pulling things out of my suitcase and depositing them onto the bed.  
"What's this?" He held up a small porcelain box, mostly meant for tiny trinkets.

"A gift from my grandmother. It's hand painted. She found it in a little store in Montreal."

"Canada, huh?" He clenched his jaw before speaking up again. "I grew up in Canada."

"Ah, I knew I could detect an accent!" I exclaimed.

"It's a slight fucking accent," he growled, clearly becoming upset.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I was just going to say my family is from Canada. I grew up in Los Santos, but my mom's side of the family is all from Montreal." I took the little box from his hands and hesitated for a moment before placing it on his dresser. I felt a bit weird, unpacking my belongings as if it was my own home.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking at me awkwardly. "I'm gonna get this place fixed up so you can feel more comfortable here."

"It's okay, Trevor; really. I'm not going to be here forever; you don't need to change your whole place around just for me. Once I get back on my feet, I'll be out of your way."

"How many times do I have to tell ya? You're not in the way. I like having you here."

"Well, thank you. But please, don't go overboard just for me." I turned away from him, hanging up some more of my clothes in the wardrobe. It was sweet of him to make so much room for me. Spencer never would've done half the things Trevor had already done for me. I thought back to all the times I had to beg Spencer just to come to the beach with me on his days off. Most of the time, I went alone. Spencer was never too interested in doing things that didn't benefit him.

"Who's this?" I turned around again to find Trevor holding a small framed photo of my sister and I.

"Oh, that's my sister; Marjorie. She lives in Rockford Hills with my parents. She's younger than I am, but she's got her life more put together." I heaved a sigh of disappointment. "Nice to know my parents at least have one kid who isn't an embarrassment to them. She's the golden child."

"I'm sure they're proud of you," Trevor tried to reassure me. I shook my head in disagreement.

"I haven't spoken to them in months. Things kinda fell apart when I dropped out of college a few years ago, and things between us have been rough since then. I don't really fit in there. I never have. I hate Rockford Hills."

"Ah, you come from money, don't ya?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded before continuing, "They're all typical Vinewood; fake tans, phoney personalities, and more money than sense."

"This-" He pointed a finger at me, wagging it around in my direction, "This is why I like you. You're fucking real. You're gorgeous and you're not full of yourself like everyone else out there."

I could feel my cheeks heat up as he went back to laying out my things on the bed. He looked at each little knick knack and photo as if it were completely foreign to him. I could tell he was trying to latch onto any information about me that he could find among my belongings. I suddenly felt shy as I moved closer to him to organize the things he had laid out in front of him, and I hoped he wouldn't notice the way my body had tensed up.

He turned to me suddenly, looking deep in thought. "Do you wanna go get dinner?"

"Well, I should probably change first," I laughed, gesturing down at my Princess Robot Bubblegum pajama pants and purple tank top, "but yeah, I'd like that."

"Great!" He clapped his hands together once and left me alone in the bedroom, beginning to shout through the door. "There's not much around here, but there's a little diner on the edge of town. It's not bad."

"Sounds fine!" I smiled to myself as I finished dressing myself. This felt suspiciously like a date.

* * *

"Told ya it wasn't bad, right?" Trevor gestured at the burger I was tucking into. I realized upon arriving at the diner that I was much hungrier than I had thought. I nodded at him enthusiastically. For a small, run down looking diner, their food was admittedly pretty great.

"So, tell me," Trevor tapped his fingers against the table. "How is it that a girl as gorgeous and sweet as you doesn't have a million friends?"

I shrugged. "I'm not a very outgoing person. I only really have one friend; Katie. And she lives in Mirror Park now with her fiancé, so I don't see her a lot. I actually haven't spoken to her in a while. Spencer kind of had a way of distancing me from everyone else." I paused to take a sip of my drink. "All we've done is talk about me. What about you? Don't you have friends out here?"

He scoffed. "I have employees. I guess you could call them my friends. There's Ron; you saw him this morning. He's a goddamn wreck of a man; always goin' on about his lizard people and conspiracy theories. But he's a good worker; very reliable. Same with Chef. He's a competent guy; nice guy, too. Then there's Wade. He ain't all there, but he means well."

"They sound like an interesting bunch."

His face dropped as he glanced out the front window. He looked sullen as he turned his attention back to his plate. "I had some real good friends; best friends. But I lost them. A job went wrong once, back in North Yankton. Used to live there. Brad got locked up, and Michael... He's gone. I'm the only one that got away. Came out here to hide out, and decided to start up my business a while ago."

I reached across the table, taking his hand in mine. I looked him in the eye, trying to show him that I meant what I said. "I'm sorry about your friends, Trevor. That's terrible."

"Never really had many people stick around, anyways." He shrugged.

"How about family? You haven't mentioned anything about your family."

He scoffed, and his voice was filled with disdain as he spoke, "Don't really have one. My father was a real piece of shit. Used to beat up on me when I was a kid; that is, before he left me at a shopping mall. Didn't see him after that."

"Oh, Trevor," I mumbled, reaching for his hand across the table before taking it in mine.

"It's okay," he jumped in before I could speak again, "I burnt that fuckin' shopping mall down later, so I can't be too upset."

"Was he your only family?" I asked.

"I had a brother, too, but he died in an accident. He was never too nice to me, either. And my mom," he hesitated before speaking again, "she's locked away."

"Wait, you burnt down a shopping mall?" I exclaimed in a delayed reaction to what he had just told me a minute earlier. He nodded calmly, as if this was normal information.

"So, to answer your question, I ain't got much for family."

"Well, I'm here," I mustered up a shy smile, and pulled my hand away, realizing it had been resting on his for a bit too long. "I'll stick around as long as you'll have me."

"If I didn't know any better, cupcake, I'd say you were comin' onto me." He smirked at me, and I could tell he was anxious to change the topic to something less serious.

"You wish," I giggled.

"I can tell when a woman wants to get it on with ol' Uncle T." He smirked.

"Oh God, Trevor, don't call yourself that; it's so creepy!" I laughed.

"I'm a creepy guy."

"No, you are not! I like that you're just 100% you. You don't care what other people think; I think that's great."

"I think you wanna get me in bed," he stated plainly. I felt my cheeks heat up as I stared down at my plate. He spoke up again, his voice somewhat soft, but filled with confidence. "I knew it." He shook his head and chuckled to himself as he paid the bill. I thanked him on our way out to his truck, and locked eyes with him as he opened the passenger side door for me.

"You're really sweet, Trevor." I took his hand in mine once again, and spoke up, feeling much gutsier than I had just moments earlier. "Good looking, too."

"I think you're just drunk."

I shook my head. "I'm not drunk. Are you drunk?"

He snickered as he climbed into the driver's side of his truck. "Takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, sweetheart."

The drive back to his place was quiet. It wasn't the kind of awkward silence I had felt with so many people before. It was comfortable. But something lingered between us; a kind of tension. I realized as I looked out at the barren desert roads; I did want Trevor. I wanted him all to myself. And I was going to make it happen.


	4. Weeds or Wildflowers

It had been four days since Trevor had found me on the streets of Los Santos, and my bruises had begun to fade. My cuts and scratches were healing, but my ribs still ached. Still, I felt that it was time to find a job and get out of Trevor's hair. I felt disappointed by the thought. He had quickly become my best friend, and the thought of not seeing him every day was a bit sad. Still, I knew I wanted to stay in Sandy Shores, at least for a while. Cutting ties with Trevor and going back to the city just wasn't an option anymore.

"Hey, Trevor," I asked as I wandered out of the bedroom, "What's the job situation out here? Anything I could get into?"

Trevor was stood in front of the fridge, eating a cold slice of leftover pizza directly from the box. "There's not much," he said through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni, "But then again, no one out here is sober enough to actually get a job, so you might stand a chance at finding something."

"How about that gas station across the street?"

Trevor shook his head, visibly very against the idea. "Not unless you wanna get held at gunpoint every other night. Try the Chinese food restaurant across from Ron's. The place is a dump, but the food is decent."

I thought about his suggestion as I showered and got dressed. The idea of working right across the street from Trevor's place was appealing to me. I could easily come over and see him whenever I wanted; at least, once I found my own place. I had noticed the Chinese food restaurant a few times, but never thought much of it. It looked closed from the outside.

"I'm gonna go across the street and see if that place is hiring, and maybe look around a little more, okay?"

Trevor nodded, reaching into his pocket for something. "Well, if you're gonna go exploring, take this, at least. And be careful. The people around here can be kinda nuts. Just keep to yourself and you should be fine." He handed me a pocket knife, which I proceeded to drop into my purse, and headed out the door into the heat. I thought living in the city that I knew what hot weather was like, but the desert was a whole different ballpark. The sun beat down on me, and I immediately started sweating as I stepped outside and jogged down the front steps.

Trevor was right about the restaurant across the street. It was a dump. It looked incredibly outdated, and the chairs and tables were practically falling apart. I was greeted by an older looking man, who seemed thoroughly uninterested in my presence. He leaned against the counter, scrolling through something on his phone, not even lifting his head to acknowledge me. I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to get his attention.

"Oh," he looked up at me, seeming surprised, "Hello. Don't think I've seen you around before."

I shook my head at him, stepping up to the counter so I didn't have to speak up over the box fan in the corner. "I'm new here. I'm staying with Trevor Philips. I don't know if you know him; he lives across the-"

"Trevor?" The man cut me off. "Did he send you here? I told him we were squared away; I paid him what I owed him." He seemed nervous as he spoke, as if I were about to run across the street and get Trevor at any moment.

"No, no, I'm just looking for a job and I was wondering if you needed anyone," I explained calmly.

He nodded his head at me, still visibly anxious. "I do, actually. Hard to find help around here. You seem normal; that's good."

I wished I could say the same about him. He looked like life had beaten the hell out of him. His skin was rough and scarred; much worse than Trevor's, and he looked as though he had just come off of a four day bender. Still, he seemed nice enough.

"I'm Jane," I told him, shaking hands with him across the counter.

"Jerry." He mustered up a weak smile as he spoke again. "I don't see much point in interviewing you or anything. Not like I'll find anyone better out here. Can you start Monday? I'll pay you under the table."

"Sounds good! Thank you!" I nearly skipped out the door as I left. I hadn't had my own job in quite a while. Spencer had gotten me fired from my catering job when he stormed into an event, drunk and angry at me over nothing. After that, he told me that I should stay home while he worked and paid the bills. He tried to pass it off as a good deed, but I knew all along that it was so that he had control of all the money. Needless to say, I was excited about this job.

"Trevor!" I burst through the door, excited to tell him the news, to find that he had left. I looked outside, realizing that I had been so excited that I didn't even notice his truck was gone. I found it a bit strange that he had left without even texting me, but I figured it must have been urgent, and tried not to put too much thought into it. I made myself comfortable on the sofa, which Trevor had replaced the day before, in an attempt to make me feel more "at home." I got sucked into an episode of Fame or Shame, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on the couch. I woke up in the dark, and realized it was almost 10 pm. Still no Trevor. I began to worry that something was wrong, but I tried to ignore the feeling as I downed a bottle of Pisswasser.

"Are you okay? I haven't heard from you all day," I texted him. No response. Around 11 pm, I called him. No response. I tried to push my anxious thoughts aside as I got into bed around midnight, and fell asleep slowly.

* * *

It was nearly 2 am when I woke up to the sound of someone on the front porch. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I heard the loud thud of someone's boots by the door. Someone was there, and Trevor wasn't home to protect me. Silently, I padded into the kitchen, trying to peer out the front window without being seen. My heart rate settled quickly when I realized who was outside. It was Trevor, slumped against the front door, beer in hand.

"Trev?" I opened the door, and he propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at me as if I was standing in bright sunlight.

"Hey, beautiful." His words were lazy and slurred together.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded at me and let go of his beer. It rolled away, settling between the wood planks on the porch, liquid pouring out everywhere. "C'mon, let's get you inside." I extended my hands out to help him up. He stumbled through the door, and watched me as I filled up a glass of water for him.

"I missed you," he groaned, and I detected a tone of lust in his voice. He took a sip of the water I had handed him, and placed it down on the counter, almost spilling it everywhere. He trapped me between himself and the counter, where he placed his hands on the hard surface behind me, forming a sort of cage. "Been thinkin' about you a lot, Janie."

"Trevor," I sighed in frustration, trying to gently push him aside to free myself. "You're drunk." He bowed his head until it was level with mine, and pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling softly.

"You smell so good." He groped himself lazily as I distanced myself from him. His eyes were filled with pure lust as they followed me across the room and into the bedroom, where I pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser.

"Trevor, come change out of your jeans and I'll be right back. There are sweatpants at the end of the bed."

"It'd be better if you'd help me, gorgeous," he called to me as I closed the door behind me. I used the bathroom before heading back towards the bedroom, and knocked on the door twice. "Trevor, I'm coming back in, okay?"

No answer. I proceeded to open the door, and found him sprawled out on the bed, wearing only a pair of underwear. I couldn't help but to stare for a moment. He looked good; a mess at the moment, maybe, but still good. I set the glass of water I had gotten him down on his nightstand and moved his legs aside so I could pull the sheet up over him. I crawled into bed next to him, not bothering to turn the light off.

"Did you get the job?" He mumbled into his pillow, his words all jumbled together.

I smiled up at the ceiling. "I did."

"Good," he declared, "You deserve it."

"Thanks, Trevor."

"You're so pretty," he muttered, clearly not meaning to say it out loud. I couldn't hold back my smile as he spoke up again. "I wish you were mine."

"I would like that," I answered him, knowing he wouldn't remember our conversation in the morning.

"I want you. That workin' girl had nothin' on you."

My heart dropped and my throat went dry. I suddenly felt myself tear up, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. That's where he had been all night. He had sex with a prostitute. I shouldn't have been so upset with him. He wasn't my boyfriend. He didn't cheat on me. He was single and he did what he wanted. Still, I had thought that he had been developing feelings for me the way I had been for him. It took me hours to fall asleep that night, trying to forget my anger and my heartache. I woke up the next morning moody and full of rage.

"Good mornin', gorgeous! How'd you sleep last night?" Trevor sounded excited to see me, clearly unaware of what had happened the night before.

"Fine, Trevor." My voice was monotone, and filled with disdain. I grabbed an apple out of the fridge, choosing to sit at the table rather than on the couch beside him.

"Did you end up getting the job across the street?" He asked, not picking up on my anger.

"I told you last night, Trevor. Yes, I did." I crunched on a piece of apple, trying to hide my frustration as best as I could.

"Did I say that last night? I don't remember that." He seemed completely unaware of the annoyance in my voice.

"You said a lot of things last night."

He looked at me as if the thought had just dawned on him. "I came home drunk last night, didn't I?" I nodded, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "Ah, shit, I'm sorry. What time did I get back?"

I held up two fingers at him. "Where were you?"

"Well, I started out at the lab. Somethin' came up. And then Ron and I went to The Yellow Jack and I guess I started drinking there. Things were kind of a blur."

"Were things still a blur when you fucked that prostitute?" I spat.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "Did I say that?"

"Yes, you did." I stood up to throw away my apple core, and began gathering my things to take a shower. "I'll be out of your way by tomorrow."

He stood up from his place on the couch, following me into the bedroom where I looked for an outfit to wear. "What? Why? I thought you liked it here. I'm sorry I came back drunk."

"I don't care that you got drunk, Trevor!" My voice wobbled as I spoke louder. "I care that you had sex with some prostitute and then came back like it didn't happen!"

"What's it matter?" He was becoming annoyed; I didn't care.

"Do you even think about other people's feelings?" I was nearly shouting by that point, and I had dropped the outfit I picked out onto the bed.

"What's it fuckin' matter to you?" He yelled, matching my tone.

"Because, Trevor," I shouted, my voice shaking as tears began running down my cheeks, "I have feelings for you! And I just- I thought you felt the same, but-"

"I do," he cut me off. "I do feel the same."

I looked at him in confusion, the anger still in my eyes. "Then why the fuck did you do that?"

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Didn't think you would care."

"Well, I do."

"If it makes you feel any better," he said quietly, "I was only thinkin' about you when it happened. She was just a stand in. Didn't think I'd ever have a chance with you."

My shoulders dropped, and I wiped the tears away from my face. "So you do have feelings for me?" I mumbled.

"Of fuckin' course I do. I think I've made that pretty clear. How any man could meet you and not have feelings for you is beyond me. You're just so-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I had closed the gap between us, my lips crashing into his as if it was the last thing I would ever do. Our kiss was hungry and full of urgency. Things went static around me, and suddenly, I couldn't remember for the life of me why I had been so angry.

Trevor was the one who finally broke the kiss, smirking at me as his hands snaked around my waist. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm forever."

"You're stupid," I laughed, my lips meeting his once again. I should've been more upset. But I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. All that mattered was this very moment; my lips pressed to his, his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him.

Maybe this was me rebelling against my youth; the cushy, superficial world of plastic surgery and overpriced clothing. Maybe I was grasping onto anything real; anything to make myself feel better when things had felt so shitty before. Or maybe it was just that I had found something new; something different and exciting and unknown. I couldn't leave. I had to be with him.


	5. Good Shot, Good Soldier

It had been two weeks since Trevor and I first kissed. We spent our nights under the sheets, forgetting about anything else in the world besides each other. He was passionate, hungry and wild; like a tiger who had just been released from its cage. He spent his days out, doing whatever it was that Trevor liked to do. I worked my regular job at the Chinese food restaurant across the street. I would bring back dinner for him. He would wolf down half of it, and eat the rest for breakfast the next day, cold of course. I sat in the passenger seat of his Bodhi as he tore through the desert, always on a crazy mission of some sort.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Trevor asked me.

"Don't you have something you need to do?" I questioned him. He handed me the remainder of the plastic sleeve of cookies we had been sharing, and pulled me closer to him on the couch, where we were sprawled out, watching TV.

"I haven't been making enough time for you. I want to spend tomorrow with you." He looked at me with soft eyes, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. I smiled up at him and I snuggled into his side.

"Well, if you insist," I began, "You could take me on a helicopter ride..."

Trevor chuckled. "You ain't gonna let that go until we do it, are ya?" I shook my head with a sly grin. "Well, alright. Ask and you shall receive."

"Finally!" I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his shoulder. He always seemed so calm when I was snuggled up beside him; that's how I could tell how much he liked me. Still, I was unsure what it was that we were doing. We were sleeping together, spending all of our free time together, and confiding in each other. I didn't know what to call him, but I knew I didn't want it to end.

"Hey, Trev," I intertwined my fingers with him and continued, hoping he wouldn't panic, "What are we doing together, exactly? You and I?"

"Sleeping together?" He responded, as if I should've already known the answer to my question.

"Well, no shit, but I mean, we spend all of our time together..." I trailed off.

"Are you unhappy spending so much time with me?" He was becoming defensive. I had begun to understand Trevor's mannerisms. His feelings were hurt easily, and he deflected it with anger and defensiveness.

"No, no!" I rushed to comfort him. "I just- I really like you, Trevor."

"I'm pretty likeable." He grinned at me.

I playfully smacked him on the arm. I changed my tone, trying to make it clear that I meant what I said. "Trevor. I don't want you to sleep with anyone else. I want to be the only one."

"Like... A relationship?" His expression had changed and he looked almost panicked. I wondered if I should have kept my mouth shut. I nodded meekly. "You don't want to date me."

"I do. I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't want it."

He sighed, pressing the tips of his fingers to his forehead. "There's a reason I've never had a relationship, princess. No one can handle me for more than a month or so."

I looked him in the eye and spoke softly. "Trevor, I know people have not been good to you, but-"

He cut me off. "Cupcake, listen to me. I've got issues; ones that you can't fix. Life has beaten the shit out of me, come back around, and beat me down again. No one wants to get dragged down with me."

My heart broke for him as he spoke. I had only begun to hear about his past, and I knew it wasn't good, but listening to how he talked about himself was saddening.

"Trev, I like you. All I hear is you trying to convince yourself that you're not worthy of love. I want to be with you, and you can't change my mind."

"Well," he sighed, "Guess I can't argue with that, can I?" He mustered up a weak smile, wrapping his arms around me.

* * *

I watched as Trevor skillfully pulled at levers and pressed a myriad of buttons and switches, all while directing the helicopter where to go. He looked like a pro; I had to keep reminding myself to look out at the view rather than at him. It was pretty incredible. I felt a bit disappointed that it was over when we landed back at the airfield.

"That was so fun!" I skipped along beside him as we headed back toward the hangar. "Do you think we could go again sometime?"

He laughed, nodding at me enthusiastically. "Most of the time, I'm just flying to make airdrops on supplies and guns. It's nice having some company." He held open the door for me as I hopped into his truck, and I grinned at him as he rounded the front of the vehicle and climbed in next to me. "Do you mind if we make a little stop?" He asked.

"Go ahead," I told him happily. He had just taken me on an amazing helicopter ride; as if I would have minded making a short stop afterwards. He navigated the back roads of Grapeseed as if he had lived there his whole life. I had no idea where we were, but it was a gorgeous town; full of grassy fields and rural farms. Within minutes, we pulled up to tiny green house, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"Well, come on." Trevor gestured for me to follow as he jumped out of the truck and strode up to the little house, where an older woman with short, dark hair sat in front, her eyes panning over something on her laptop screen.

"Hey, handsome!" She greeted him enthusiastically. I stood behind him awkwardly, feeling a bit out of the loop. Her eyes wandered over in my direction, and landed on me. "Who's this?"

Trevor took my hand and gently pulled me towards him. "This is Jane," he said proudly, wrapping his arm around my waist, "Ain't she just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

"Hey, honey," she greeted me, reaching out to shake my hand. "Maude."

"So," Trevor spoke up again, "I got your email. Whatcha got for me?"

"Larry Tupper. Meth dealer; a real violent streak. You two should get along just fine. He was hangin' around the northeast part of the Grand Senora Desert, so he may be out your way by now. Bring him back alive and I'll pay ya a pretty penny for him."

I looked on curiously as they spoke, wondering what exactly she wanted Trevor to do. Upon leaving, I decided to do a bit of prying.

"So how come she wants you to pick up that guy?"

"He jumped bail. That's what Maude does. She finds everyone who's jumped bail. My job is to pick 'em and bring them to her, dead or alive. Preferably alive, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

I swallowed hard. I knew that Trevor had killed numerous people, but I preferred to try and forget about that part of him. "So, now what?"

"Now we go lookin' for him. I don't love the idea of bringin' you with me, but I figured you're probably bored of hangin' around the trailer. Besides, it'll be good for you to start getting familiar with what goes on out here if you're gonna be staying for a while."

I nodded in agreement. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I enjoyed cruising around the desert with Trevor as he searched for his newest target.

"There he is, the sneaky motherfucker!" Trevor wrenched the steering wheel to the left, heading directly towards a man who was running in the opposite direction. I assumed that he had seen Trevor's Bodhi and already figured out what was going on. In a split second, Trevor had driven his truck directly into the man, who bounced off the hood and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Jesus, Trevor, what the fuck?!" I shouted.

He slammed the truck into park and looked at me with a smug expression. "Didn't feel like running." He stalked around the front of the vehicle, yanking the man up by the back of his shirt, and dragged him around to the back of the truck.

"Larry Tupper! Been a long time, friend!" Trevor pushed him into the truck bed and reclaimed his place in front of the steering wheel.

"Still workin' for Maude?" The man sounded defeated as he accepted his fate, taking a seat behind me.

"Didn't hit ya with my car for nothing, pal!" Trevor shouted back to him.

"Wouldn't surprise me if ya had," the man responded sarcastically. I craned my neck to look back at him as he spoke to me. "Who're you?"

"Don't talk to him, sweetheart," Trevor told me calmly. "Best not to involve yourself."

I nodded, acknowledging what he had just told me. I sat quietly, listening to them chat as Trevor delivered him back to Maude's place.

"So, is that usually how it goes?" I asked as Trevor rejoined me in the truck.

He shook his head emphatically. "Nah, that was an easy one. Usually they put up a fight. Real ugly stuff. Wouldn't have brought ya with me if I thought that's how this one would've gone. I've known Larry for years. Used to be a customer until he decided to start up his own business. Stole a lot of my clientele."

"Is everyone around here... Y'know, an addict?"

He chuckled. "You're practically the only one who isn't. Most of 'em can't control themselves like I do, though."

I swallowed hard. I had tried to ignore the fact that Trevor was an addict. I didn't know much about it, but I knew meth was a scary drug. Trevor decided to break the silence that had settled between us. "Sorry if it bothers you, gorgeous."

"It's just- Isn't that stuff really dangerous?" I asked quietly.

"It is," he nodded, "but so am I."

I knew I had only just begun to see the kind of life that Trevor lived, but it hadn't scared me off yet. I was infatuated with him, and nothing put me off enough to walk away. I reached over and silently took his hand in mine, intertwining my fingers with his. He looked relaxed as he drove back to his place, despite having just hit a man with his truck less than thirty minutes ago.

"Want a beer?" He asked me as we stepped inside his trailer, tossing me a glass bottle before grabbing one for himself. He sat down next to me on the couch, letting out a satisfied sounding sigh. I snuggled into his side, looking up at him with soft eyes.

"Hey," Trevor spoke up. "I want you to stay here, with me. I know you were thinkin' about getting your own place and all, but I want you to stay."

"Are you sure?" I asked him with wide eyes.  
He nodded at me enthusiastically before speaking again. "I've been out here alone for a long time. It's nice having someone around. Especially a good looking someone like you." I smiled sweetly at him and laid my head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. I was startled when my phone rang out in the silence that had settled between us. He grabbed at a bag of chips on the floor by his feet and tore it open as I jumped up to answer my phone.

"Hey, your phone's ringing," Trevor muttered through a mouthful of chips just as I grabbed my phone off the counter.

"Gee, thanks, Trev." I rolled my eyes as I answered the call.

"Janie!"

"Oh my God, Katie!"

"How are you?" She squealed. "How are things? How's Spencer?"

My hearted dropped. It had been so long since I talked to Katie that she didn't even know about what had happened. "Oh, Katie... We split up." Trevor's head shot up to meet my eyes. I really did not want to tell Katie what had happened. "Things just got complicated between us." Trevor scoffed, shoveling another handful of chips into his mouth.

"Where are you living now? Still around Vespucci?"

"No, no. I'm- I'm actually out in Sandy Shores." I told her.

"Where?"

"Blaine County."

"Ew," she groaned, "Why on earth are you out there?"

"I actually um... I met someone."

She squealed in response, and I could hear her clapping her hands together in the background. "Tell me about him! Wait, wait! We have to get together! And you can tell me everything about this new mystery guy!"

I swallowed hard. How was I supposed to tell Katie that my boyfriend was a killer with a nasty drug habit? "Yeah, definitely!" I feigned enthusiasm. "I can come out to the city on Wednesday if you want?" I looked at Trevor for approval, and he nodded in response.

"Of course! I'll come out to Vespucci! We can get a hotel together and everything; it'll be great!" God, I loved Katie, but she had so much energy. She could run circles around me any day, to the point where I would get tired just looking at her. Still, I was excited at the prospect of seeing her and spending a couple of days together.

"I'll find ya something you can drive out to the city," Trevor assured me as I hung up the phone. Great. The last thing to straighten out would be how to explain my new boyfriend to my best friend of sixteen years.


	6. Have To Explode

I tried to convince Trevor not to buy a new car just for me to drive out to the city for a few days; really, I did. But in true Trevor fashion, he refused to listen, choosing instead to buy a brand new Coil Voltic. It was a deep shade of blue, and almost looked like a dark purple in the sunlight. I promised that I would pay him back slowly, which he brushed off, choosing to call it a "gift" instead.

I pulled up to the Viceroy Hotel around 1 pm, practically leaping out of the car when I arrived. I heard Katie yell from behind me as I grabbed my overnight bag from the passenger seat.

"Janie!" She tackled me, throwing her arms around me and nearly knocking me to the ground. It was nice to see her again. We chattered away happily as we checked into our hotel and made our way down the hallway to our room. Katie flopped down onto one of the beds as I unpacked my overnight bag.

"So that's a pretty sick car you pulled up in. Where'd you get something like that?"

"Oh... Um, it's a rental," I lied. Katie nodded knowingly, staring at me like a kid looking at their presents under the tree on Christmas morning. "What?" I laughed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've just missed you so much! Let's go to the beach, yeah?" She leapt to her feet, grabbing her beach bag off of the bed beside her. "You drive! My old Penumbra looks so sad compared to that Voltic."

Down at the beach, Katie had already begun hounding me for information about Trevor. We sat on a giant beach blanket, looking out over the water; a beer in my hand, and a fruity drink in hers.

"Ugh, how do you drink that stuff?" She gawked at me as I downed the last few sips left in the bottle. "Nevermind, I don't care," she waved her hands, shooing away her own question, "Tell me about this mystery man! What's his name? Tell me he's super hot. You deserve someone super hot and super sweet. Is he good in bed?"

I laughed as I tried to get a word in edgewise. "His name is Trevor, and yes, he is super hot and super sweet." I beamed at her.

"Aaaand...?" She dragged out the word, looking for me to continue.

"And yes, he is incredible in bed."

She clapped her hands together, looking positively elated for me. "What does he do?"

I swallowed hard. This was the question I had dreaded her asking. "Oh, um," I paused, "He's a bounty hunter, basically. He finds people who've jumped bail." The least questionable of all of his ventures, I figured.

She looked at me with a blank expression on her face. "Isn't that really dangerous work?"

I nodded my head, looking down to awkwardly tug at a loose string on the blanket.

"Ooh, so he's that kind of guy," she said slyly. "Really dangerous, intimidating type of guy, huh?"

"You could say that," I answered her in an amused tone of voice. If only she knew.

"Hot," she responded simply. I laughed, thinking about her fiancé. His name was Eric, and he was the most straight-laced guy I had ever seen. "So do I get to meet him?"

I stuttered before speaking again, "Oh, I don't know, Katie. He lives all the way out in Sandy Shores."

She scowled at me, clearly not happy with my answer. "Next time, he's coming out here with you," she demanded.

"Let's go find somewhere to eat. I'm starving," I said, trying to change the subject. She nodded enthusiastically, jumping to her feet to help me pack up our things. She pushed me playfully as we headed back to the parking lot where I had left the Voltic.

"So, he's good in bed, huh? Expand on that, please."

It was nice having Katie around again.

* * *

Katie only left for ten minutes to run to the bathroom. That's all the time that it took for him to find me, waiting at our table outside for my friend to return.

"Spencer, let go of my arm! You're hurting me!" I cried out as he dragged me down the sidewalk towards his car. It was evening by that point, and all of the tourists had either made their way to the pier or gone inside for dinner. The few stragglers chose to avert their eyes when they noticed what was happening.

I struggled to open the back door as he sped down the road. Damn child lock doors. "We need to talk, Jane," he pleaded with me as he dragged me up the stairs to his apartment, where he trapped me between himself and the wall. "Come home," he said simply.

"I don't want to come back here, Spencer. I have a new home, now."

"What, with that asshole who came into our place and threatened me?" He furrowed his brow, and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool.

"That's not important. I have my own job and I'm happy. I don't want to come back."

He was becoming frustrated. "I've been trying to give you time and let you come back when you were ready, but it's clear that's not working. Jane, get over yourself and just come back. Don't you care about our future?!"

"We have no future!" I shouted at him, trying to escape the position he had trapped me in. I felt my head slam into the wall behind me as his hand struck the side of my face. Everything began spinning as I gripped the back of my head, tears immediately spilling out onto my cheeks.

"Good luck finding someone else to deal with your shit, Jane! I'm the best you're going to get!" I yelped when his fist collided with my nose, and I could feel blood spilling out onto my face. I darted toward the kitchen, looking for the house phone in an attempt to call the police. I stumbled over the corner of the rug, my chin slamming into the wood floor as I fell. I cried out in pain as I tried to regain my composure.

"Stop acting like an idiot, Jane!" Spencer yanked me back towards him, and pulled me back up by my arms.

"Please, Spencer! I'm sorry!" I sobbed. His hand hit my face again with a loud clap, and I ran for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I threw myself against the door as he fought to open it. My whole body ached and I was covered in my own blood. I crumbled to the floor as I lost the battle with Spencer. The door flew open and he dragged me out into the living room by my arm, dislocating my shoulder along the way. I screamed out in pain when he threw me down again.

"You're cheating on me with that crazy motherfucker, aren't you?" He screamed down at me. I sobbed as his boot pressed my face against the floor. "Aren't you?!" He repeated. I was silent as he glared down at me, only whimpering in pain when he kicked me in the stomach.

"You're fucking him! I knew it!" He yanked me up onto my knees by my hair, punching me once again; this time in my left eye. The last thing I remembered before passing out was his boot colliding with my ribs.

* * *

"Oh my God, Jane!" I woke up to Katie standing over me, looking as white as a ghost. I rolled over and up onto my knees, crying out in pain when I moved my arm. I immediately remembered the events that had unfolded before I passed out. I dissolved into tears as Katie threw herself down beside me, rushing to comfort me. I snapped back to reality when I heard two voices behind us screaming at each other.

"You fucking waste of life! How many goddamn chances did I fucking give you?! I've lost my patience!" I immediately recognized the voice, and I whirled around to see my savior, just in time to witness a bullet whiz through Spencer's skull. I looked on in horror as the blood spattered all over the white wall behind him, and Katie screamed.

"Jesus Christ!" Trevor yelled as he turned around to find me on the floor, shaking from the events I had just witnessed. In an instant, he had moved across the room and to my side, holding my bloody face between his hands.

Katie looked on in horror, clearly disturbed by the dead body laying on the floor by the front door. "You killed him!" She shrieked.

"Did what I had to do," Trevor shot back at her, carefully lifting me up into his arms, trying not to make my injuries any worse. Katie had tears streaming down her face as she followed us down the stairs outside. "Are you okay?" Trevor's voice was tender and soft as he looked down at me. He carefully sat me down in his truck, making sure not to jostle me around too much.

"She's got blood everywhere!" Katie sobbed.

"It's from her nose," he stated calmly.

"H-how did you find me?" I croaked.

"You left your phone. I called him," Katie spoke up, jumping into the back of Trevor's truck as he started it up. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Trevor shot back.

"She's my best friend. I'm coming with you." There was the Katie I knew and loved; always headstrong, and always determined. Trevor silently obliged, speeding down the highway back towards Sandy Shores.

"Chef will help me fix ya up, princess," Trevor placed a hand on my thigh. "He fixes me up when I can't do it myself."

Katie sat in the truckbed behind me, gently stroking my hair for most of the trip. "So," she began, "Care to explain what happened back there, Trevor?"

"The drive ain't long enough to explain shit to you," he told her. She scoffed at his answer, choosing to ignore him for the rest of the trip. Chef was already at Trevor's trailer when we got back, waiting on the front porch with a box of medical supplies.

"You guys live here?" Katie gawked at the rundown trailer as Trevor carried me inside. She sat on the floor and chewed on her nails as Trevor and Chef began pulling supplies out of the box. Trevor wiped the blood away from my face with a damp towel, and Chef tended to my wrist, which was apparently sprained.

"This is gonna hurt; I'm sorry," Chef told me as he gripped my shoulder with his left hand and my arm with his right. Trevor squeezed my free hand as Chef yanked at my shoulder, popping it back into the socket. I cried out in pain, and both Katie and Trevor looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

"How do you know how to do all this?" I watched Chef going to work on my wrist.

"You learn how to do a lot of stuff when you work for Trevor," he answered simply.

Trevor rubbed my shoulder affectionately as he held a bag of ice to my jaw, which was throbbing from hitting it on the floor earlier. Katie looked on with concern in her eyes.

"A little better?" Chef asked me as he finished up.

I nodded. "Much. Thank you. Nice to officially meet you by the way." I mustered up a weak smile.

"You too. Shame it was under these circumstances," Chef told me before excusing himself. He pulled the front door closed behind him as he left, leaving Trevor, Katie and I alone.

"Jane-" Katie began.

"I know," I cut her off. "I have a lot to explain." She nodded, waiting for me to continue.

"I own a meth business," Trevor blurted out. "Spencer isn't the first person I've killed and I have a rampant drug problem." Katie's jaw dropped, and she looked back and forth between Trevor and I in disbelief. "I'm trusting Jane's judgment with you, and assuming that you'll keep quiet."

Katie paused for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. "Okay," she nodded, "Okay, I won't say anything. Clearly, you care about Janie, so I guess that's enough."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Katie."

"Can't believe he did this to you," Trevor growled as he looked over my injuries. His voice softened when he spoke up again. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I could hear Katie's voice wobble as she teared up, still biting at her fingernails. I shrugged, mirroring her when I felt tears stinging my eyes.

"You can stay here tonight," Trevor muttered in a monotone voice, looking in her direction. "The couch is comfortable."

Carefully, I tried to ease myself up off the couch, wincing at the pain. Katie and Trevor both rushed to my side, supporting my weight as I got back up on my feet.

"Help her change," Trevor stated plainly. "I'm gonna get her something to eat before she goes to bed. She needs food. And sleep."

In the bedroom, Katie spoke to me in hushed tones as she helped me out of my blood stained clothes and into a clean pair of pajamas. "Jane, I don't mean to hassle you or anything, but him? Really?"

"He's sweet," I told her, immediately becoming defensive.

"He's a meth addict," she hissed. "Plus he's like twice our age."

"You barely know him, Katie," I shot back at her.

She helped me lower myself onto the bed, pulling the blankets over me and cleaned the blood from my hair with a damp washcloth. "Fair enough. I gotta admit, he's not bad looking. Y'know, if you're into that."

I smiled at her, thankful for her approval. Moments later, Trevor appeared in the doorway, holding a plate of reheated Chinese food, which I devoured. I didn't realize until I smelled food that I hadn't eaten dinner that night. Both of them sat at the end of the bed while I ate, making small talk in an attempt to distract me from the pain. Katie left the room when I finished eating, handing me aspirin that she had pulled out of her purse on her way out.

Trevor climbed into bed beside me, gently pulling me towards him. I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed loudly as I attempted to get comfortable. "Thank you, Trevor."

"You don't have to thank me," he insisted. "Besides, I wouldn't have even known if Katie hadn't called me. I'm glad she was with you. I can see why she's your best friend."

I smiled as he brushed the hair away from my face. Within minutes, I was nodding off, listening to Trevor snoring softly beside me.


	7. At the Bottom of Everything

"Can't believe you convinced me to get a tree this big," Trevor groaned as he attempted to drag a large Christmas tree into the front door of his trailer. "I'm tellin' you right now, this thing ain't gonna fit. Where are we even gonna put it?"

"I'll just move the table and chairs over a bit and it'll fit in the corner."

Trevor dropped the tree on the floor and gently moved me aside as he stalked over to the dining room set. "Like hell you will. Might I remind you that you still have a sprained wrist and broken ribs?"

I let out a frustrated huff and rolled my eyes as he shifted all of the furniture to the right. It had been two weeks since everything went wrong and I was growing tired of everyone treating me like I was made of glass. Trevor stuck to my side like velcro, and when he was busy, he ordered Wade or Ron to stay by my side and look after me. I hated that my injuries were a constant reminder of the terrible night when Spencer had attacked me. The blood smeared against a white wall. The sound of a gun firing and the terror in Katie's scream. I fought against my memory, trying to erase it all from my mind.

Trevor said that he wanted someone by my side to take care of me when he wasn't around, but I think what he didn't want to say was that he was afraid I would hurt myself. He had seen the scars on my arms; those were self inflicted. He had let me come to him and explain it on my own time. He never pushed me, never judged me. But he worried all the same. That night put me back in the bad place I had been to so many times before, and all I wanted to do was think about Christmas and forget about what happened.

"This thing is gonna hit the ceiling when I stand it up."

"It's not," I argued. "Just try it." I watched as Trevor set the trunk into the tree stand. It just brushed the ceiling when it was screwed into the stand. "See!"

"It's touching the ceiling! Where are you gonna put your star or your angel or whatever the fuck?"

"We'll just trim the top!" I clapped my hands together as I gazed at the tree in the corner of the room. It was perfect. Trevor laughed at my childlike reaction as I watched him clip the branches near the top of the tree.

"We gonna decorate this tonight?" Trevor asked. I nodded enthusiastically, my hands clasped together under my chin. I had spent far too long at the store the week before, agonizing over which ornaments I liked best, with Trevor complaining in the background the whole time. I had a collection in the corner of lights and ornaments, some decorative and some sentimental. I was ready for something positive.

We ate dinner early that night. I was too excited to wait any longer to decorate the tree. Trevor laughed as I sang along to Christmas carols. He handed me ornaments to hang up and looked at me as if I was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen.

"What?" I asked him when I noticed him staring at me.

"I like having you here," he told me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and mumbled something incoherent. He pulled away slightly when I asked him to repeat himself. "I've never been this happy before," he told me, his voice small; almost timid. I smiled sweetly at him and took his face in my hands, gently pressing my lips against his.

"I still don't know why you're even here," he confessed.

I tipped my head at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a worthless junkie. I'm a goddamn mess and so is this whole town. I'm an alcoholic and I... I just never meant much to anyone." He looked down at his feet, clearly not wanting to make eye contact.

"Well, you mean everything to me." I tipped his head up with a gentle hand under his chin and kissed him again. "You're mine."

"You'll eventually get tired of looking after me," he sighed.

"It's going to be a lot harder to get rid of me than that." I patted his cheek and pulled away from his embrace. "Now, help me finish decorating the tree, you ol' softie." I scrunched up my nose and grinned at him.

"Don't push it," he chuckled.

* * *

The tree lights mocked me when I was alone. They told me that I couldn't be happy, no matter how hard I tried. I would stare at the ornaments, look into the soft glow the tree put out into the room, and try to forget. The blood spatter. The screaming. The pop of my shoulder dislocating. The metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

I stared at the scars on my arms. I couldn't go back to that place I had been to so many times. I couldn't go back to hiding my wounds under a sweatshirt in the San Andreas heat. And yet I did. I sat on the shower floor, completely clothed and covered in blood. It was worse than ever before. I sobbed into my palms, my eyes swollen and red. Katie's horrified scream. The blood on the wall. The sound of a gun firing in a small space. The pop of my shoulder dislocating. The taste of blood in my mouth. My heart rate spiked when I heard the front door open.

"Hellooo, beautiful!" Trevor called out. I heard him stop in his tracks when he didn't see me in the living room. I heard the clunk of his boots against the floor as he stepped into the bedroom. The bathroom door was open; I waited for him to stick his head in to look for me. I felt the shame and regret rushing back to me as he turned the corner into the bathroom.

I watched as his expression turned from excitement to complete fear as he took in the sight before him. He threw himself onto the floor in front of me, grabbing at my arms. "What did you do?" He sounded frantic. He jumped up, rushing to grab his first aid kit from the kitchen, and returned to me. He cleaned my wounds without a single word, and gingerly bandaged me up. I cried as he closed up his first aid kit and left it on the floor behind him. He helped me to my feet and wiped the tears away from my face with his thumbs.

"Sweetheart," he spoke softly, "why?"

My voice was shaky as I answered him. "I just can't handle the memories."

He sighed knowingly, and pulled me into a hug. I sobbed so hard my body shook when I inhaled, and I buried my face in his chest. He held me close, stroking my hair. "It goes away after a little while. I promise." I looked up at him, my eyes filled with shame and insecurity. He spoke again, his voice tender and sweet. "I'm not going anywhere."

I wanted to move on; forget about what I had done. I had cried enough. I just wanted to spend the rest of the night with Trevor, sitting by the Christmas tree and snuggling into his side. I let out a shaky breath. "Can we get pizza for dinner?" I asked weakly.

He smiled at me, and I could see the relief wash over his face. "Of course," he breathed. And we did. We sat on the couch and ate pizza directly from the box. He let me watch all of the Princess Robot Bubblegum reruns that I wanted, despite how much he hated that show. If only everyone had someone like Trevor. He didn't remove the sadness, but he certainly made it easier to deal with. We drifted off around 8:30 pm, holding each other on the couch.

The sound of my phone ringing woke us both abruptly. "Goddamn it," he groaned, rubbing his eyes in a hazy daze. I stumbled over to the counter, where my phone vibrated loudly.

"Hello?" I muttered into the speaker.

"Jane-bug." It was my sister, Marjorie. Great. "How are you? I haven't heard from you in months." She sounded distant, and I could detect a tone of sadness in her voice.

"Sorry, Marj, things got kind of complicated."

"Is everything okay?" She asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Spencer and I broke up. I'm living in Sandy Shores now."

"Why on God's green earth are you all the way out there?"

I rolled my eyes. I was growing tired of that question already. "I met someone. He lives out here."

"Ah," she responded curtly. "Are you coming to mom and dad's house for Christmas this year?" I swallowed hard. I hadn't spoken to them in close to six months, and although things had gone downhill between myself and them, I couldn't deny that I still wanted to go home for Christmas.

"Um, I hadn't really thought about it. I guess so," I answered.

"Good," she said warmly, "I'll tell them you'll be there. Bring your new boyfriend. They'll want to meet him. So do I. I love you, Jane."

"Love you too, Marj." I hung up and dropped my phone back onto the counter. I dragged myself back to the couch and curled up next to Trevor, who had already fallen back asleep, and listened to his heartbeat until I drifted off.

* * *

"There's only a week until Christmas," Trevor stated matter-of-factly as he changed the bandages on my arms. It had been a few days since he found me on the shower floor covered in my own blood, and he hadn't left my side since.

"I still have to wrap your presents," I told him.

He gave me a sly look before he spoke up again. "I want to give you an early Christmas present."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," he responded, disappearing into the bedroom. He rifled through his drawers and brought back a square velvet box. "I was going to wait until Christmas, but this seems as good a time as any. It seems fitting."

The corners of my mouth tugged upwards into a small smile as I opened up the box. It was a silver necklace, with a pendent shaped like two hearts intertwined, and diamonds around the edges.

"Oh, Trevor, it's gorgeous. Thank you," I told him.

"I know it's kinda cliché. But it's more of a promise than an accessory," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"And what's that promise?"

"That I'm going to stick by you for as long as you need me. I know you've been goin' through a lot, and I just want you to know that you've got me. And I know someday, you're going to get your strength back and you'll want to move on and stand on your own two feet, and when that day comes, I'll let you go. But for now, I'm here."

I looked at him blankly. I hadn't had any intentions of leaving. I wondered what I had done to give him the impression that he was simply a stepping stone in my life. I took his hands in mine and looked him in the eye, trying to convey my seriousness. "Trevor... I don't want to leave."

"Well, not now, but someday-"

"No," I cut him off, "I want to stay here with you. If I gave you the impression that I was going to leave, I'm sorry. But Trev, I want to be with you."

"You say that now." His voice was somber, and he looked away from me, trying to avoid my gaze. I put my hand under his chin and pulled his face close to mine, pressing my lips against his stubbly cheek.

"Baby," I spoke softly, "I know you don't like facing this stuff, but I need you to hear it. I know you have some demons. I know you struggle, and you hide that away from everybody. You're afraid to get close to people, because you think they're going to leave. You can't just let yourself be happy. I get that. But Trevor, I'm not going to leave. I- I love you."

He turned his attention away from me, suddenly rushing to stand up. He began pacing back and forth before speaking up again. "No, you don't."

"What?"

"You don't mean that. You don't know what you're saying," he pointed in my direction, looking somewhere between thoughtful and angry.

"I do," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"No, because y'know what? You can't just say things like that to people. You can't just go throwin' things like that around." He was still pacing, looking angrier and more panicked by the second.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Trevor. I do love you." I told him, standing up to block his path. I touched him gently on the arm and he yanked himself away, looking at me as if I had just shocked him with a taser.

"Stop... Saying that," he hissed. He was coming unhinged as he spoke. "Nobody ever really means that. It's a made up fucking concept and I don't want to hear it."

"I can't tell you how I feel?" I was becoming angry. I was hurt that he had reacted so badly just to me saying how I felt about him.

"Fuck no, not if it's like that!" He was approaching a shouting volume.

I matched his tone, shouting back at him this time, "You don't get to decide how I fucking feel, Trevor! I feel like such an idiot for thinking that you might have felt the same way!"

He looked at me coldly, not saying a word in response. I felt that familiar lump in the back of my throat, and I looked at him with a broken expression. "I know you love me, too. Why can't you just say it?"

"I don't," he snapped. I felt tears stinging my eyes as I grabbed my phone off of the counter and stormed out the door. I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't be there; not for a while, at least.


	8. Leave a Light On

I wandered around Sandy Shores in the dark, mulling over what had happened. Maybe I had misread the situation. Maybe Trevor didn't love me. Maybe he was just looking for someone to sleep with and spend time around. _No_ , I told myself, _I know he loves me._ Why couldn't he say it? I remembered his words at the diner on the night that felt so long ago. "Never really had many people stick around." And I had just stormed off in the middle of the night, leaving him alone once again. I fought with myself as I walked down the silent roads. How long could I go on in a relationship with a man who couldn't even admit his feelings to me?

Maybe it wasn't meant to be. I fiddled with the necklace Trevor had just given me. No; we were meant to meet that night on the streets of Los Santos. There was a reason for all of this. I knew it. I loved him and nothing he said (or didn't say) would change that. Love was a scary word; I knew that much. I had been muttering that word to Spencer for years. It was empty when I spoke it to Spencer; only said out of obligation. But Trevor… Trevor was different. He lit a fire inside of me. There was no love anywhere else in the universe that could measure up to my love for him. All of that, and he couldn't even say it back to me.

The cool night air made me shiver and the cold set into my bones and somehow made me feel even more alone. I wandered around the quiet town that had just begun to feel like home to me, studying all of the shabby old buildings and trailers scattered about. As I rounded a corner onto a new street, I heard the squeal of tires off in the distance. I knew Trevor would be worried if he found out I had left the trailer at night without a knife or a weapon of some kind. I had learned quickly from him how to use a myriad of weapons; knives, knuckle dusters, guns. I thought back to the first time he showed me how to use his favorite pump shotgun. He lit up when he watched me firing at the targets he had set out for me.

I pushed the thought out of my mind quickly; I was too angry to be reminiscing. I shoved my hands into my sweatshirt pockets and stared up at the darkened sky as I walked. Sandy Shores may have been a dump, but there was a certain charm to it. You could actually see the stars at night, and the cold air that cut through the desert at night was refreshing. It was a nice change from the city. Maybe I had overreacted about what happened with Trevor. Maybe I was being unreasonable. All I knew was that I was getting cold and I wanted to go back and patch things up. That is, before I heard footsteps behind me, followed by something hitting me over the head. Everything went black after that.

* * *

"Listen, doll, we know you're shackin' up with Trevor Philips. He killed a lot of our people, you know. I think it's more than fair that we take one of his."

I awoke in a torn up looking trailer; much worse than Trevor's had looked when I first came to him. The floor was covered in trash and a thick layer of dust and dirt. The furniture pushed up against the walls was falling apart; hanging on only by a few nails and screws. The air was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and human waste. I couldn't imagine that anyone could live in that type of squalor. I tried to move my hands to rub my eyes, and looked down to find that I was tied to a wooden chair by my wrists and ankles.

"So tell me, doll," I heard a man's voice saying, "Are you two hookin' up, or what?"

"Where am I?" I immediately felt a wave of panic, followed by tears streaming down my face. "Who are you?"

I looked up to find a middle aged man in a leather jacket with long, greasy hair. He looked like he hadn't showered in weeks. He was eyeing me as if I was going to try and bolt at any second. I sobbed incoherently, trying to escape the ropes that rendered me a prisoner to the chair I sat in. I watched with fearful eyes as four more men filed into the trailer, each one of them looking at me as if I was a four course meal.

"You said you saw her come from Trevor's place?" One of the other men asked before turning his attention to me. He bent down in front of me, resting his hands on his knees as he studied me, chuckling to himself. "What're you doin' messin' around with that crazy motherfucker, huh, sweetheart? Wouldn't you rather mess around with us?"

"No, please!" I cried out, tugging at the ropes on my wrists. "Please let me go! What do you want from me?"

"Aw, don't take it personal, honey," one of the men told me calmly, "This is just revenge is all. Nothin' to do with you in particular. Trevor just fucked with us one too many times."

"I barely even know him!" I lied. "I just met him the other day!" Another lie.

"Aw come on, doll," the middle aged man spoke up, as he sharpened a knife. "Don't lie to us. We've been watching you for a while. Seems like ol' Trevor's got a crush. This'll show him not to fuck with us again." He smiled a toothy grin at me, and then looked back down at his knife. The four other men chatted amongst themselves as if this was nothing out of the ordinary..

"Please!" I cried to them, "Help me!" They continued talking as if I hadn't just spoken to them.

I was going to die. I was going to die in some ratty old trailer in the middle of nowhere at the hands of a bunch of angry looking bikers, just for the sake of revenge. No one would even find my body; I would just be gone without a trace. I wished that I hadn't left things so terribly between Trevor and I. I knew he loved me. The way he looked at me, like I was so precious and so special to him. The way he held me at night when he was asleep, like he never wanted me to leave; pressed against my back, holding me close to him. He opened up to me like he had never opened up to anyone else. He was vulnerable; I saw the hurt child inside of him begging for love. I knew how he felt about me. Why did I have to push it? Why did I have to hear him say it? I should've stayed at home with him. I sobbed quietly as I accepted my fate. The man with the knife looked all too pleased with himself.

"I'd make it quick and put a bullet through your head," he told me, "But what would be the fun in that?"

This was it. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain, and instead, heard a gunshot ring out in the silence outside of the trailer. It was followed by the screaming of various people and a hailstorm of bullets hitting the side of the trailer. The five men in front of me rushed out the door, all pulling pistols from their waistbands. What was probably only a few minutes felt like an eternity, and finally, things went silent outside. I jumped when the door swung open violently.

"Are you hurt?! What did they do to you?!"

Trevor.

It was Trevor. I bawled as he rushed towards me to untie my wrists and ankles from the chair I was sitting in. He looked over me frantically, searching for any injuries.

"How did you find me?" I cried.

"I knew it would be these bastards! God damn it! Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" He was in full on panic mode.

I ignored his frantic questioning and threw my arms around him as he finished untying me, trying to compose myself. "I'm sorry, Trevor!" I wailed. "I'm sorry!"

He pulled away from me, looking at me with a confused expression on his face. "For what?"

"I shouldn't have forced my feelings on you. I could've died tonight and left things between us so unresolved and so terrible."

He helped me to my feet and held my hand as he led me out of the trailer and towards his truck. "Don't be ridiculous. They almost just killed you and you're worried that you hurt my feelings? Sweetheart, it's fine." He sat in his truck for a moment before starting it, and stared down at his lap quietly. "I do, by the way."

"You do what?"

"I do- you know- love you."

* * *

"Merry Christmas," Trevor whispered, nuzzling into my neck as I stirred from a deep sleep. "Wake up!" He said to me, becoming impatient. He kissed my neck tenderly before peppering my face with soft kisses. "I've got gifts for you."

I rolled over onto my side to face him, and smirked at him. "I thought you didn't care about Christmas."

"I had a change of heart," he answered. I dragged myself out of bed and followed him into the living room. It was early enough in the morning that the sun hadn't risen yet, and the tree lights illuminated the whole room in a dim glow. Under the tree sat a small pile of gifts, some impeccably wrapped and adorned with bows and ribbons, and some haphazardly wrapped and covered in tape. He tried; that was all that mattered.

"I got you some good stuff," he said proudly, sitting on the floor in front of the tree. I joined him and began pulling out gifts and organizing them by the names on the labels. He looked at the small pile in front of him with wide eyes. "No one's ever given me a gift before," he stated matter-of-factly. My heart broke for him, and I reached out to touch his hand gently.

I watched as he ripped open the colorful paper, revealing a new calculator watch, all six seasons of Impotent Rage on DVD, and a new Love Fist shirt. He looked at each gift with childlike joy spread across his face. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on my forehead, and I smiled at his touch. "Thank you," he said quietly, "for everything."

"I'm sorry, it's not much. My paychecks have been small lately, and I-"

"Sweetheart," he cut me off, "This is amazing." He gestured at the gifts he had just unwrapped. "I love it all."

"I'm happy if you're happy," I murmured, leaning into his touch when he cupped my cheek. He turned away, grabbing three small presents from under the tree, and handed each of them to me.

"Open that one first," he told me, pointing at a shoebox sized rectangular box. I tore open the paper slowly, revealing a Princess Robot Bubblegum statue, similar in size to Trevor's Impotent Rage statue that sat on a shelf in the bedroom. "It looked good next to Impotent Rage. They can sit next to each other," he said, sounding almost nervous.

"That's perfect," I reassured him, knowing he was feeling anxious about the current situation. I unwrapped the next gift that he gestured at. It was a new ornament for the Christmas tree; a small cat just like the one from my childhood. Trevor had seen the nostalgia in my eyes when I first showed him photos of the family pet; a small calico cat named Pickle.

"It's Pickle," he said, gesturing at the ornament in my hands. "Do you like it?" I had never seen Trevor look so vulnerable before. He was tender and sweet and his eyes pleaded with me for a happy response.

"I love it, Trev."

"Good," he said, sounding a bit more confident. "Last one," he said softly, and pushed a tiny box towards me. "Best one." It was velvety and tied up in a messy bow. I knew what it was. My hands shook as I tugged at the ribbon. My throat felt dry as the bow came loose. Trevor looked at me expectantly; he looked about as anxious as I felt. I swallowed hard, carefully cracking open the little box.

"Oh, Trevor," I whispered. I stared down at the ring he had just presented to me. It looked vintage; a huge diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller ones, with a delicate design that crept down the edges of the ring.

"I know it hasn't been that long, but I just- Fuck, I really love you, Jane." He looked white as a ghost, as if he were about to pass out. "I know I'm not a great catch, but if you're all in, so am I."

"Trevor, I -"

"Don't feel like you have to say yes. It felt like the right time, but I don't want you to feel like I'm trapping you. I know you probably don't want to stay out here in the desert forever, and I'll go wherever you want. I just want to be with you, but I understand if you're not ready for this. It's okay if you're never ready." he rambled. I had never seen him so anxious before.

"Baby," I jumped in, "I am all in. I have been for a while now."

"So is that a yes?" He asked nervously.

I nodded my head enthusiastically, and dove towards him, throwing my arms around him and capturing his lips in a kiss. "Of course it's a yes," I laughed, holding out my hand for him to slide the ring onto my finger as I climbed into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, and tucked my head under his chin. "I love you," I sighed.

"I love you too." He stroked my hair gently, heaving a sigh of relief. "Really thought you were gonna say no."

I pulled away a bit to look at him with a puzzled expression on my face. "How come?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous. And I'm… me."

"Oh, Trev," I stroked his cheek, looking at him with pure love in my eyes. "You have no idea how much I love you. You're all I want."

He pressed his cheek to the top of my head. "Now I just have to meet your family," he muttered.

"That should be tons of fun."


	9. I'm Sticking With You

"Remember, best behavior today, okay?"

"I'm always on my best behavior," Trevor shot back, trying to stop himself from laughing halfway through his statement.

"See, you can't even say it without laughing!" I rolled my eyes at him and jabbed him in the chest with my finger. We stood side by side at the front door of my parents' house; Trevor dressed all in black, looking surprisingly polished and put together, and me in my favorite red Christmas dress.

"Janie bug!" Marjorie opened the front door, grinning when she saw me. She grabbed me and pulled me into a hug, looking positively elated to see me. Still, I could see the sadness in her eyes when she pulled away. I hadn't been fair to her; inadvertently cutting her off because of my feud with our parents. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Marj," I told her, handing her a bag of gifts for the family. She turned to look at Trevor as if she had just noticed his presence.

"So this must be your new guy," she stated, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"Trevor," he nodded, holding out his hand. She shook it apprehensively, shooting me a judgmental look. "I've heard a lot about you."

She pursed her lips, looking somewhat displeased. She gestured for us to follow her inside. "Well, come on." I took Trevor by the hand, leading him into the foyer, trailing behind Marjorie.

"Yeah come on, Janie bug," Trevor whispered to me, clearly amused by the nickname I had been given from a young age. I sneered at him and elbowed him in the side as we entered the living room.

"Hi guys," I exhaled, trying to hide my anxiety from my parents. "Merry Christmas." My mother rushed towards me, pulling me into a tight hug while my father hung back, looking apprehensive.

"We missed you," he said, his voice surprisingly warm and welcoming. He patted me on the shoulder and pushed the hair away from my face with a few fingers.

My mother gasped as she yanked my left hand up to look at the ring around my finger. "What is this?!"

I swallowed hard. "Um," I began awkwardly, "I'm engaged."

"To this man, I'm assuming?" My father questioned me, glancing over at Trevor, who stepped closer to me, clearing his throat and sounding incredibly uncomfortable. I could hear the false confidence in his voice as he spoke up.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask your permission. I just really love your daughter and I-"

My father held up a hand to stop Trevor from speaking any more. "I understand. She's a special girl." He smiled at me before turning his attention back to Trevor. "I'm Richard. This is my wife, Nancy."

"Trevor," he answered, stepping forward to shake both of their hands. My mother looked at him with a sour expression on her face.

"Well, let's open go open presents," she spoke up, changing the subject.

"Janie, why don't you help me out with the coffee before we start?" My father waved me along behind him. He turned to look at me as I stepped into the kitchen. "What the hell are you doing?" He hissed.

"What?"

"What the hell are you doing bringing that man into our home? He looks like he just woke up in an alley, Jane, and he's got to be twice your age!"

I looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling as if I was about to cry. I should have known that his initial reaction to Trevor was beyond fake. "Harsh, dad."

"Damn straight, it's harsh. He didn't even ask permission before putting a ring on your finger and you parade him in here like he's the greatest thing. Who's this guy think he is?"

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me as I listened to him. "Dad, you and mom haven't even wanted to be around me since I dropped out of school. How was he supposed to ask your permission when you weren't even around?"

"What happened to Spencer?" He asked, sounding incredibly disappointed in me. "You two were so good together."

"Dad," I began, my voice sounding meek and shaky, "Spencer really hurt me. Trevor saved me."

He rolled his eyes. "You've always been so dramatic. He 'saved' you? From what exactly? The man looks like a thug!"

"Spencer hit me, dad!" I nearly shouted at him, trying to hide the tears that had come to my eyes. "He hurt me, and he almost killed me! I wouldn't be here without Trevor!"

His shoulders dropped. "What?"

I nodded at him, looking embarrassed. "He wasn't what you thought, dad."

He grabbed me suddenly and pulled me towards him, capturing me in a hug. "I'm sorry, Janie bug. I didn't know."

"It's okay, dad." I took his hands in mine as I pulled away, and looked him in the eye. "Can you please just give Trevor a chance?"

He sighed. "I'll try." He picked up two cups of coffee and gestured at the last three with a grin. "You can balance those. You used to be a waitress; do your thing."

Trevor looked at me with desperate eyes as I reentered the living room. I handed him a cup of coffee and turned my attention to my mother and Marjorie. "Were you two giving him a hard time?" They shook their heads defensively.

"Trevor was just telling us about his line of work," my mother told me, sounding displeased, once again.

"Which is?" My father intercepted.

"Oh, um, I'm a bounty hunter. I find people who've jumped bail and pick them up. I do all kinds of work for the people of Sandy Shores; Um, just contract work... Fixing things and such."

Nice cover. I could tell from my father's face that he was not satisfied with that answer. He scoffed as he brought his cup up to his lips to take a sip.

"That's quite a ring, Trevor," Marjorie jumped in, seeing that both Trevor and I had become uncomfortable with the current situation. "That must've cost a pretty penny."

"Marjorie, that's so rude," I hissed.

"She's worth it. She's worth every penny of it," he answered her, patting me on the knee. I looked over at my mother as he spoke. Her expression had softened significantly. I was hopeful that he'd win her over; my father would be a much bigger hurdle.

"Well," Marjorie clasped her hands together as she spoke in a sing-songy voice, "Present time!" She leapt to her feet and began handing out presents from under the tree. I watched as the three of them opened their gifts from me; a new perfume for my mother, a set of ties for my father, and a sundress and a matching bag for my sister.

"You guys," I groaned, looking at the $500 gift card to Ponsonby's that I had been given, "You shouldn't have done this." It wasn't as if my parents were hurting for money, but I had always felt a bit funny shopping in such fancy stores. I preferred t-shirts and jeans most of the time. "Thank you," I told them. My mother had also knitted me a new sweater, and my sister gave me the usual 'Marjorie-type' Christmas gifts; a new hoodie, a pair of beaded sandals, and a bag full of new makeup products. I thanked her, and neatly piled up my gifts on the floor by my feet.

"Trevor, we didn't know anything about you, so if it doesn't fit, or you don't like it, we still have the gift receipt," my mother told him as he pulled a gray sweater out of a cardboard Ponsonby's box.

He shook his head. "It's nice. Thank you." I knew he was just being polite; I'd be lucky if I ever got to see him wear that sweater. He scratched the back of his neck and ran his fingers through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry I didn't get you guys anything. I've never had a family to buy gifts for. But hey, lemme take you all to dinner sometime; wherever ya want."

"You have no family?" My mother asked him, sounding sad. Her eyes resembled those of a puppy locked in a cage, and she held a hand over her heart, looking positively heartbroken.

Trevor shook his head. "My dad left when I was young. My brother died when I was a teenager, and my mom-" He glanced over at me, "She um, she lives far away."

"Well, I guess you're part of the family now," Marjorie shrugged. I knew it wouldn't be easy for Trevor to win over my parents, but I was hopeful. I was optimistic about the future. My parents were at least giving Trevor a chance, and things between myself and them had seemed to smooth out significantly since the last time I had seen them.

* * *

"Don't understand why we had to stay here."

"It would've been rude to turn them down just to go stay in a hotel, babe."

I watched as Trevor pulled his shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor. I stared at him when he turned to pull his sweatpants out of his overnight bag; I loved the muscles that tensed up across his upper back into his shoulders. He always looked good. "I can feel your eyes on me," he chuckled.

"So what, I can't stare at my fiancé?" He shrugged and turned around to face me, looking at me with an amused expression. "You're sexy," I told him.

"Don't start," he warned, wagging a finger around at me.

I giggled at him, pulling him towards me by his hand so that he stood over me from my position at the end of the bed. "I already started," I teased.

He growled at me, pushing me onto my back and climbing on top of me. "You tempt me."

I sighed when his lips trailed from my collarbone up to my ear. I pushed my palms against his chest, attempting to create some space between us. "No, Trevor, not at my parents' house. We can't."

He dropped his head against my shoulder and groaned. "Come on," he pushed, "live a little."

I shook my head fervently, and wriggled my way out from under him. I pulled myself up towards the pillows, sitting up so my back rested against the headboard. "So are you gonna try on the sweater that my parents gave you, or what?"

"I'd look ridiculous in that thing."

"Only one way to find out."

He rolled his eyes and stood back up, grabbing the folded up sweater off of the dresser. He slipped it over his head and straightened it out, looking completely done with it. He held out his arms dramatically, showing off the sweater.

"That actually looks really nice, Trev. I like it." I smiled sweetly at him, looking him over. He did look nice in it.

"Nice enough to get me laid?" He shot me a cheeky grin.

"Maybe," I laughed, "but not tonight."

His head dropped in disappointment, and he pulled the sweater back off of him, dropping it on the floor by his bag. "You and your sister look alike," he changed the topic.

"So I've heard," I answered him, flipping through the pages of the book on the nightstand next to me; a coffee table book filled with photos of gardens and landscapes. "So what do you think of my family?"

"Your parents are tough nuts to crack." He slid onto the bed next to me, grabbing the book out of my hands and putting it back on the nightstand. He buried his face in my hair and inhaled. "I'll never fit in here."

"Baby, I don't care about that." I cupped his face in my hands and tipped his head up towards me, kissing his forehead. "I don't fit in either; never have. I guess that makes us both misfits."

He snuggled into my side and exhaled loudly, sounding half exasperated and half tired. "Turn off the light, will ya?"

"As long as you don't try any funny business," I teased.

"No funny business here," he chuckled. "Unless you've changed your mind." I rolled my eyes and reached over to click off the lamp on the nightstand. Within minutes, Trevor was asleep on my shoulder, gripping my hip in his hand and snoring softly. I laid beside him, trying to fall asleep, but the thoughts swirling around in my head kept me awake. Around 12 am, I slid out of his arms and softly padded out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I smiled at my mother when I stepped into the kitchen, seeing her sitting on one of the barstools by the kitchen counter.

"Tea?" She offered, taking a sip of her own.

"You read my mind," I smiled. She made herself busy preparing a cup for me, and I took a seat on the unoccupied barstool. "So," I began nervously, "Dare I ask what you thought of Trevor?"

She rolled her eyes at me and stopped in her tracks. "Jane, I don't know what you're doing with him. I know things were bad between you and Spencer; your father told me what you said to him this morning. But Janie bug... That man is not the solution."

"Mom, he's not a 'solution'; He's my fiancé, and I really would like for you guys to accept that." I took a sip of the tea she had just slid across the counter and looked at her seriously.

"He's not good enough for you."

"You don't even know him, ma," I sighed.

She pressed her lips together in a tight line and leaned against the counter across from me. "Janie, you're so beautiful. You could be a movie star with that face. I just don't understand why you would choose someone like him."

I rolled my eyes and sneered at her. "That's awful shallow of you; judging him based off of his appearance." I should have expected that much from her.

"Honey, he looks homeless!"

"Well, he took me in when I was homeless, so you're sorely mistaken." My voice was filled with disdain, and I was growing tired of the conversation. "He treats me well, mom. Why can't you just accept him?" I had begun speaking at a louder volume, my frustration getting the best of me.

"I can't do that," she answered, matching my volume.

"I shouldn't have even come home for Christmas," I nearly shouted, clearly angry with her. I knew I was about to wake the entire house; well, aside from Marjorie. The girl slept like a log. My mother pressed her hands against the counter and stared at me, looking positively furious. Right on cue, my father wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes in a daze and trying to get a read on the current situation.

"I tried to be kind, Jane, but if you're going to pull that card, I'm not going to hold back." She glared at me, and spoke up again, raising her voice. "The man is a lowlife! He looks like a junkie and he's preying on a young girl for whatever sick reasons he's got!"

"He's no good for you," my father jumped in.

"I knew you guys would do this! I bring home an abusive asshole like Spencer and you love him because he's dressed in expensive clothes and acts as fake as everyone else around here! And then I bring over this man who cares about me and loves me unconditionally and you just dismiss him because he doesn't fit into your cookie cutter view of the world! That is so typical; SO typical." I ranted, now pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor.

"You must know somewhere deep down that you deserve better than that man!" My father shouted. "You've always done this Jane; you don't know what's good for you! He's a loser!"

"Ah, the truth comes out." I spun around to find Trevor standing in the threshold to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. I couldn't read his facial expression.

"Trevor-" My mother began, before he cut her off.

"No, no, I get it." I could tell he was angry, but his voice was calm. "I'm scruffy. I'm not the best looking guy and I don't have much to offer. But I'm going to take care of your daughter. I love her more than anything and I'll make damn sure she never hurts for anything."

"Sometimes love isn't enough," my father shot back at him. "Glad to hear you love her, but lots of people do and lots of other men would love her, too. But you're not what's best for her."

Trevor's eyes had turned dark, and he stared at my father the way a lion would stare at its prey. "What do you know about what's best for her?" He had snapped. He had hit his limit and he was officially enraged. "Have you seen the scars on her arms?" He stalked towards me and grabbed my arm, yanking my sleeve up to show them my marked up forearm.

"Trevor!" I hissed, trying to wrench my way out of his grip.

"Do you know she's been doing that shit since she was a teenager? I fuckin' bet not! And who was there for her when she was bleeding all over the bathroom floor? Who was there to clean her up and make her feel better? Yours fucking truly!"

"Jane-" My mother stuttered, looking brokenhearted. I had never told them about my nasty habit, and I had always made sure they didn't see my scars.

"Don't-" Trevor warned, his voice loud and filled with rage. "Don't you fucking act like you know what's best for her! You didn't even know how much she was suffering. You goddamn people are something else!"

"If you think we're going to let this happen, you're sorely mistaken!" My father shouted back at him.

"You don't listen worth a damn, old man! She was unhappy here! She's happy with me! What are you gonna do to stop us? She's a grown woman; she can make her own decisions! If we wanna go get married tomorrow, we can fucking do that! I'm marrying your daughter, and there's not a fuckin' thing you can do about it!"

"How dare you-"

I cut my father off, my voice as loud as Trevor's, "No, dad, he's right! This is happening whether you're on board or not! I'm happy and I wish you could see that!" I turned to face Trevor, trying to reel in my anger when I spoke to him. "Trevor, get our bags. We're leaving." He rushed upstairs, stomping around in the room above us as he gathered our things.

"It's after midnight, Jane! Where are you gonna go?" My mother asked.

"Home! With my fiancé!" I stormed out of the kitchen, meeting Trevor at the bottom of the staircase. I grabbed my bag out of his hands and slipped on my shoes. I tore open the front door, still in my pajamas, and Trevor still shirtless. I pulled him by his wrist out to the car.

"You didn't say goodbye to your sister!" My mother called after me.

"I'll text her!" I shouted back as we backed out of the driveway.

The ride back to Sandy Shores was long and quiet. I leaned forward in my seat, holding my head in my hands as I cried. Trevor reached a hand over to rub my back in an effort to comfort me.

"You know I love you," He said quietly.

"I know, Trev. I love you, too."

We pulled back up to the trailer around 4 am, and I welcomed the sight. We threw our bags down on the couch haphazardly when we stepped inside, and I took Trevor's hand and led him into the bedroom.

"Ready for bed?" He asked, beginning to climb under the sheets.

"No." I grabbed the sheets out of his hands and pulled them away from him. He raised his eyebrows at me when I climbed on top of him, grinding against him as I straddled him. "Not yet."

"It's the middle of the night. Are you sure?"

I huffed at him and pushed a strand of hair away from my face. "Are you really gonna question it?"

He grinned at me, flipping me over onto my back and hovering over me. "Don't gotta ask me twice, gorgeous."


	10. I'll Be On Your Side

Sandy Shores always felt hotter than anywhere else in Blaine County. Even over in Grapeseed, the sun felt cooler against my skin. I had promised Trevor that morning that I would head over to Maude's place to pick up information for him on some new jobs while he was at the lab. She looked up from her computer when I peeled into the driveway in my Voltic, which admittedly hadn't gotten a lot of use yet.

"In a hurry there, darlin'?" She chuckled as I slammed the car door behind me.

"I don't think it's possible not to drive fast in that thing." I grinned at her as I pushed my sunglasses up onto my head. "I've been sent to pick up information for Trevor."

She nodded at me, handing over a manila folder with a few sheets of paper in it. "He told me you were comin' by." She raised an eyebrow at me as I flipped through the papers in the folder and sighed. "So... If ya don't mind me askin'; you two still screwin' around together or what? He ain't scared ya off, yet?"

I beamed at her and held up my left hand to show her my engagement ring, fluttering my fingers around to showcase it.

"Ho-ly shit." She looked at me in disbelief, shaking her head as if I had just told her a blatant lie. "You're kidding. You got Trevor goddamn Philips to put a ring on your finger? You must have some kinda power over that man."

I raised my eyebrows at her as I closed the folder back up, and grabbed my car keys off of the table. "Something like that." I headed back towards my car, and tossed the papers onto the passenger seat. "Thanks, Maude!" I called back to her as I started the car, "I'll tell Trevor you said hi!"

I blared the radio on the way back to Sandy Shores, feeling good about life in general. Sure, things were rocky with my parents again, but I had smoothed things over with Marjorie, and life at home with Trevor was comfortable and uneventful.

"Trev-" I stopped in the doorway when I got home, realizing that he wasn't inside, though his truck was parked out on the street. That was nothing new. I knew his inclination for stealing vehicles, though I preferred not to think about it. I did, however, find Wade sitting on the couch, presumably waiting for Trevor to get back.

"Oh, hi, Jane," Wade jumped to his feet, looking nervously at me. "I'm sorry. I was just waitin' for Trevor to get back. He didn't say nothin' about where he was goin', did he?"

I dropped the manila folder on the counter and shoved my hands into my pockets. "He said he was going over to the lab, but he should've been back by now. He'll probably get home, soon. You can wait here if you want, Wade." He nodded and returned to his place on the couch. "Are you hungry? Want something to eat?"

Wade's eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. I tossed him a bag of chips that had been sitting on the top of the fridge, and he tore into it. I flopped down next to him and flipped on the TV. He held out the chips to me, silently offering me some.

I shook my head in response. "I'm okay right now."

Wade looked at me with a confused expression on his face. "I never get it when people say that," he told me, "I'm always hungry." I laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

"You're funny," I told him.

"I like havin' you here," he said with a smile, "Trevor's nicer 'round you, too."

"Speak of the devil," I chuckled as Trevor stepped inside, letting the door slam behind him.

He ignored my comment, and glanced over at Wade, already looking annoyed with him. "Are you eating my fucking food, Wade?"

Wade dropped the chips on the couch, his eyes wide and his face blank. "Relax, babe," I jumped in, "I gave them to him."

"You're lucky she's defending you," Trevor spoke to him curtly, adding in at the end, "Now fuck off." Wade scurried out of the trailer without another word.

"Bye, Wade!" I called after him. I turned my attention to Trevor, looking cross with him. "You should be nicer to him; Ron, too."

He groaned, turning his back to me to grab a box of toaster waffles out of the freezer. He popped two of them into the toaster and turned around to look at me, clearly irritated. "You're right; I should. But I'm not a nice guy." I rolled my eyes when he looked away, grabbing his waffles out of the toaster. He stood at the counter, eating them dry.

"You're spoiling your appetite. I was about to make lunch," I declared, folding my arms over my chest.

"Don't worry about it. You've already done something nice for me, today." He picked up the folder, flipping through the papers for a moment before tossing it aside.

"Well, let me do something else nice for you."

"I could think of a few things you could do for me," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I ignored his commentary, choosing to make lunch right away. Trevor made himself busy outside, drinking and screwing around with the engine of a motorcycle in the driveway. Apparently, that was what he had driven home. By the time I had finished up, Trevor was asleep on the front porch, sprawled out on the dilapidated couch with a beer still in his hand. Gently, I shook him awake, trying to get him inside for lunch. As he stirred from his sleep, I could tell he was already a bit drunk.

"Hey, cupcake," he purred, pulling me onto his lap as he sat up. I felt his lips press against my neck, his stubble tickling my skin, and he spoke softly. "Let's forget lunch; I got other plans."

"That's for later," I whispered into his ear, shooting him a sly grin when I pulled away.

He groaned, clearly disappointed by my answer. "I want you. You look good."

"Thank you, baby," I patted him on the cheek as I began to stand up, but I yelped when he pulled me back into his lap, a bit more forcefully this time.

"Don't dismiss me," he muttered, his fingers ticking their way up my side. He pushed aside my hair and dropped his head against my shoulder, letting out a low growl. I tried to ignore the fire that was slowly growing in the pit of my stomach.

I wriggled my way out of his grip and hopped to my feet, pulling him along behind me by his arm as I went back inside, "Lunch is already done." He grumbled about who knows what as I dragged him along, and he rubbed his eyes in a daze when he stepped into the kitchen.

"Smells amazing. What are we eating?" Trevor took a seat at the table, already cracking open another beer.

"Lemon pepper chicken, rice and broccoli," I told him with a smile. I placed a plate full of food in front of him and returned to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. He had already finished half of his meal by the time I started eating mine, and I looked at him proudly.

"God, you spoil me," he said between mouthfuls, "I never ate nearly this good before you."  
I grinned at him and looked back down at my plate as I took another bite. Trevor stayed quiet, listening to the news still playing on the TV behind us.

"Yeah, it was really scary," I heard the man on the TV screen say, "He said somethin' like 'You forget a thousand things every day; make sure this is one of them.'" Trevor whirled around to look at the TV, jumping to his feet and throwing his knife down onto his plate.

He looked stunned. He spoke calmly, but I could hear the rage boiling up inside of him. "Either I just saw a fucking ghost, or I've been lied to for the last ten goddamn years of my life."

I looked at him blankly. "Baby, what's going on?"

"That son of a BITCH, Michael Townley! He's been alive this whole goddamn time! I thought he was FUCKING dead!" He slammed his fists down on the counter, and I rushed to his side.

"This doesn't make any sense, love," I tried to calm him down. "You said you saw him get shot. They buried him and everything."

"Well, apparently fucking not! I'm gonna kill the bastard!" He stormed out the front door, and I chased after him, trying to grasp what was going on.

I grabbed his arm before he headed down the front steps. "Trev-"

"Not now!" He snapped. I stepped back and let go of his arm, looking at him with a wounded expression on my face. "I'm sorry," he tried to speak calmly, "I just- I have to get out of here. I'll be back... Sometime."

I gave up on trying to get him to stay. I cleaned up the dishes from lunch and headed across the street to work a shift at the Chinese food restaurant. My head was in a fog, and I made one clumsy mistake after another, annoying my boss and making me more and more frustrated. I left work at 9 pm, feeling anxious and ready to go lay down. I sat in bed watching TV and eating chocolate ice cream directly from the carton, trying to distract myself from the expected; Trevor would be back at some point, inevitably angry and devising a crazy plan of some sort. I crawled under the covers and flicked off the light, staring blankly at the wall until I drifted off to sleep around 1 am.

I was grumpy as I woke up early to the sound of Trevor yelling outside; nothing new there.

"I'm sorry, Trevor; I'm tryin'," I heard Wade say.

I padded outside, still in my pajamas and squinting in the sunlight. Trevor was leant over the railing shouting at Wade, and Ron was cowering behind him on the porch. "What's going on?" I whispered to Ron.

"Wade's trying to find that Michael guy Trevor's always talkin' about," He answered in hushed tones, inching closer to me so I could hear him over Trevor and Wade's conversation.

"Amanda?! Wade, you're a genius!" Trevor exclaimed, and I turned my attention to him. "C'mere; I'm not gonna hit ya." Wade nodded knowingly and hoisted himself up onto the railing. I flinched as Trevor's fist collided with his face, knocking him back to the ground.

"Trevor!" I jumped in, trying to pull him back. I looked down at Wade, who had crumpled to the ground in pain, holding his nose in his hand. Trevor ignored me, elbowing me away from him.

"Don't you ever not tell me things I wanna know!" He barked. I ran to help Wade up off the ground, and walked him inside, cleaning up his bloodied nose as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Wade, let's go!" Trevor shouted. I rushed after them, grabbing Trevor's arm on his way down the stairs. "I'm coming with you," I declared, looking at him resolutely.

"No."

"Yes. Please, I want to come with you," I pleaded.

"Don't you have to work today?" He looked at me as if he had just won the argument. I crossed my arms, feeling defeated.

"Alright, you got me there. But please call me; don't leave me in the dark." I pulled him towards me and kissed him gently before letting him go.

"You got it, kiddo," he answered me gruffly. And he was off.

* * *

"Trevor! Baby, what's going on?" I answered the phone in a desperate tone of voice.

"Hey, beautiful." He sounded drained. "I'm gonna be out here for a while. If you wanna come out to the city, I'll send you the address. I miss you."

"Yeah, of course," I dismissed what he had just said, "Are you okay? Did you find Michael?"

"Yeah, I found the bastard. I'll tell you more when you get here, okay?"

"Okay, love. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"Love you, too," he sighed before ending the call. I packed an overnight bag quickly, throwing in enough clothes for a week, along with all of my toiletries. I sat in my car, waiting for Trevor's text to come through, telling me where to go. I pulled out onto the road as soon as he messaged me, heading out towards Los Santos. A few hours later, I pulled up to a faded blue apartment building right by Vespucci Beach. I parked my car on the street, grabbed my bag out of the passenger seat, and headed towards the staircase in the little garage across the way.

I knocked on the door, hoping that I was at the right place. Sure enough, a shirtless Trevor emerged, and I threw myself into his arms. He took my hand and led me into the apartment, which was a decent size; two bedrooms to the right and a sizeable living room and kitchen to the left. I stared at the wall to the left of the door. The words 'Live, Love, Laugh' had been crossed out and written over in some sort of dark ink. 'Eat Shit Die' it said. Clearly, Trevor had already made his mark on the place.

"Where's Wade?" I asked him as he led me into the living room, gesturing for me to sit down next to him on the sofa. He rolled his eyes.

"I sent him and his twitchy cousin out to get drinks. And food."

"Trev," I changed the topic, "Are you okay? Did you go see Michael?"

"I did," he nodded, his voice low and filled with disgust, "Fat bastard's been living out here for years in his fancy house with his nagging wife and his useless kids."

"I'm sorry. I'm worried about you, though, babe," I took his hands in mine, turning to face him.

"I'm fine," he dismissed my concern, looking away from me. Gently, I reached out to turn his face back towards mine, and pressed my forehead to his.

"I know you well enough to know when you're hurting, love," I whispered.

"It's just- I mourned him, Jane. I mourned him, and he wasn't even fucking dead. I spent almost ten years out here alone, wondering why I lived and he died. And it was all a fucking lie." My hands slid down to rest on his collarbone, and I traced the dotted line tattooed around his neck with my thumb. His voice was quiet when he spoke up again, "Sometimes I wished it was me instead of him."

I placed a hand under his chin and lifted his face to press my lips to his. "Well, I'm glad that didn't happen."

He sighed, leaning back into the couch and pulling me close to him. "Why are you marrying me, Jane?"

I pulled away a bit, looking cross with him. "You can't be serious. Trevor, everything you've done for me... You're sweet and you're thoughtful and you always put me first. I'd be crazy not to."

"When I showed up at Michael's, he stood in front of Jimmy. It was like he thought I was gonna jump across the counter and strangle him. I held that kid when he was born. Am I really that much of a monster?"

"Oh, Trev," I whispered. "No, you're not a monster."

"I kill people, sweetheart. Hell, I've killed for fun." I winced at his words. "And then there's you. You sit in my trailer and watch your shows and work on puzzles. You knit and do yoga and go to your regular job and... I just don't know what you're doing here with me. It doesn't feel real."

"I'll have you know, I look very intimidating while I'm knitting. Those needles are sharp, you know," I joked, trying to make him smile.

"Jane," he sighed, looking annoyed. "I'm serious. I keep wondering when I'm finally going to take it too far and you're going to walk away. Ring or no ring, you know you're always free to leave. I know I'm not an easy person to be with."

My heart broke for him, and I wrapped my arms around him, staring up at him with pure love in my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, love. I know you've had people abandon you; but I'm not them. You're stuck with me," I grinned at him and bumped shoulders with him playfully.

"I don't understand it. Feels like I'm going to wake up at any second."

"You don't have to understand it for it to be real." He leaned into my touch when I stroked his cheek, and I scooted closer to him. "I'm here. I know what you've done, Trevor. I know your past, and I know not all of it is going to stay in the past. It's okay."

"I scare myself sometimes. Someday you'll see what I really am, and when you do, you're going to run."

"I already know what you are, Trevor. I know you."

He pulled me to his chest, clinging to me as if he was afraid I would float away. He let out a shaky breath and dropped his head against my shoulder. "I just love you so much, Jane."

In an instant, his hands shot up to rest on my neck, and he kissed me hard, pressing my back against the couch. Our kiss was hungry and filled with desperation, and his hands had quickly begun to wander. His stubbly jaw brushed against my cheek as he moved to press his lips to my neck. "Trev," I sighed, "Aren't they going to be back soon?"

He shook his head, still gripping me tight. "I locked them out." I giggled and let out a yelp when he picked me up off the couch. He grabbed at my clothes frantically, pulling everything off as he carried me into one of the bedrooms, and nearly threw me onto the bed. He crawled on top of me, kissing me hungrily as I tugged at his clothes, which all came off before I even had a moment to come up for air.

"Please," I whispered, feeling him pressed against the inside of my thigh. He groaned into my ear as he slipped inside of me, and I pulled him close to me.

"I love you so much, Jane. I can't- I- Fuck, you feel so good," he babbled.

I clung to him as he thrust into me, and he looked me in the eye with an expression much akin to that of a predator; His eyes were dark and blown wide with arousal, and his teeth were bared. I melted into him when his lips came crashing down against mine. He trailed kisses along my collar bone and up my neck, and I whimpered his name as his teeth sank into my skin.

His arms were wrapped around me, and his hips snapped into me; I was lost in the sensation, inching closer and closer to the edge. And then all at once, I dissolved, whimpering and moaning against his shoulder as his hips lost all rhythm. "I love you, Jane," he groaned, "Fuck, I love you so much." He pressed his cheek to mine, snarling into my ear as he reached his climax.

He collapsed around me, stroking my hair and looking into my eyes; his expression was soft and relaxed. "How could I ever want anyone but you?" I sighed. He rolled over next to me, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand to clean up.

"We didn't use a condom," he stated, glancing over at me as if he was trying to decide whether to be concerned or not.

I shrugged. "I'm still on the pill; we're fine." I jumped when I heard an abrupt banging noise coming from the living room.

"Fuck," Trevor exhaled, "That'll be Wade and Floyd." I watched him in a daze as he pulled his sweatpants back on.

"Hey," I crawled down to the end of the bed and grabbed his hand before he could leave the room and pulled him back towards me, reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips. "I'm here. Always."


	11. Call On Me

"Where is my beautiful fiancée?"

Trevor slammed the door behind him, extending his arms out in a grand fashion. I smiled as I stood up from my spot on the couch, wrapping my arms around him and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"See, Michael, you fat fuck? Told ya she was gorgeous, but you didn't believe me." He shot a smug look at the man who had followed him into the condo. He was well dressed in a slate grey suit, with his hair combed back neatly. He looked at me with icy blue eyes and forced a smile.

"Alright, T, ya got me. She's beautiful. Don't know how you managed to land her, but she is gorgeous, I'll give ya that," he shook his head. He extended a hand to me, speaking up again, "I'm Michael."

"Ah," I nodded, "So you're the famous Michael. I was expecting someone more-"

He cut me off. "More like Trevor?" He sniggered, and Trevor shot him a warning look.

"Alright," Trevor cut in, "When's this Frank guy gonna show up, huh?"

"Soon," Michael reassured him. The two of them argued in the background as I became absorbed in my knitting. Ten minutes later, the door opened, and a much younger looking man strolled in. "Franklin!" Michael greeted him fondly.

"Who's this?" He looked at me, and I looked down at my lap, feeling shy.

"That," Michael began, "is Trevor's fiancée; Jane."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Franklin," he smiled at me. I wondered what he was doing working with two middle aged men when he looked barely older than me. Though, I was engaged to one of them, so I couldn't judge too harshly. "And this crazy lookin' fucker must be Trevor."

"Hey, you wanna see crazy, look at this motherfucker, here, okay?" Trevor shot back, jabbing a finger in Michael's direction. "I'm getting some kind of creepy father-son vibe here, and I'm tellin' ya, Franklin, if you're looking for a father figure, you can find a much better one than him. This fat snake would eat his own fuckin' kids."

Franklin rolled his eyes and changed the topic, " 'Ight, are we gonna do this thing or what?"

I listened quietly as Trevor laid out the plans for the heist he had been planning. It was risky and dangerous; much more so than Trevor's usual antics. The stakes were high; they would be going up against Merryweather security, and there was a high risk of either getting shot or arrested. Trevor was animated and full of life as he described each of their responsibilities and each step of the heist. I had to give him credit where credit was due; he knew what he was doing. He was much more intelligent than people thought him to be.

"Alright, T, we'll meet up tomorrow afternoon and get movin' on this," I heard Michael say, and I turned around just in time to see him wave goodbye to me on his way out, with Franklin trailing behind him.

"Good to meet you, man. You too, Jane," he added. I stared at Trevor as they closed the front door behind them.

"This sounds really dangerous, love," I said quietly.

"Don' worry, babe. I know what I'm doing." He claimed his place on the couch next to me, and scooted down a bit to lay his head in my lap. I stroked his hair affectionately, trying to process his plans for the next day.

"You know I'm always going to worry about you," I cooed, "You're my favorite."

He rolled over to look up at me with a relaxed smile on his face. "I need you by my side, beautiful. Feels so good having someone to come home to." He reached up to rest his palm against the side of my face. "It's such a satisfying 'fuck you' to that worthless wretch Michael, knowing that I've got you and he's gotta go home to Amanda every night." I could hear the disgust in his voice when he said her name.

I closed my eyes, satisfied with the quiet between us, but I whined as the sound of Trevor's phone ringing broke up the silence. "What do you want, Ronald?" He answered. I tried to make out what Ron was saying in response, but his voice was too quiet as it came out through the speaker.

"Fine," Trevor answered him. "I'll see what I can do... No, don't cancel it… You're useless, Ron." Trevor hung up on him and threw his phone onto the coffee table, covering his face with his hands and groaning. "Cupcake, I need a really big favor from you." I looked at him with interest, waiting for more information. "Remember how I said I was trying to make a deal with that Cheng guy? Well, he wants to meet up and talk about it right away. Like tomorrow afternoon. I got this heist and I don't trust Ron to deal with this on his own, and you're so good with people, I just thought maybe-"

"Yes, I'll deal with it, Trev," I cut him off. He sat up quickly, grabbing my hands and holding them in his lap.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so much. Remember what I taught you about handling a gun, and just in case things go wrong, Ron will be there with you. It should be an easy in and out, though." He paused, trying to think out his next words. "I'd also like it if you could maybe spend a few days out there, at home."

I looked at him in confusion, feeling hurt by his request. "You don't want me here?"

He rushed to comfort me, rubbing my arms and speaking quickly. "No, no, it's not that at all. I want you here with me, but this heist is a big deal. If things go wrong-"

"Don't say that."

"I know, I know. But hypothetically, if something went wrong, I don't want it getting traced back here to you. It's better if you're at home."

I let out a disappointed sigh, and nodded in agreement. "Okay. I'll go home tonight." He followed me around the apartment as I gathered my things, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry," he said as he walked me to the front door. I mustered up a small smile and kissed his cheek.

"It's okay, baby. I love you."

"I love you, too. I'll call you after things cool down tomorrow night. If you don't hear from me-"

I put a finger to his lips, signaling for him to stop talking. "I'll talk to you tomorrow night." He smiled weakly at me as he closed the front door, leaving me to drive home on my own. I was exhausted when I got home, letting myself into the darkened trailer. I sat up that night, my mind racing and a panicked feeling in the pit of my stomach.

* * *

I was startled awake late morning to someone knocking on the front door. I got dressed quickly and answered the door cautiously. I always worried about who could be lurking about when Trevor wasn't home. My run in with The Lost had left me nervous and jumpy ever since.

"Oh, hi, Ron," I greeted the anxious man standing on the front porch.

"Hi, Jane. Trevor told me you were going to come with me to meet with Mr. Cheng. Are you ready to go?"

I nodded, reassuring him with a smile. It always bothered me how tense he was around me. Wade had gotten used to me, realizing that I didn't have the same temper as Trevor, but Ron was still guarded.

I drove the two of us over to The Yellow Jack, and we waited by the bar until we were greeted by two men dressed in suits, one of whom appeared to be high as a kite. He flailed about, as if there were dance music playing that no one else could hear.

"Mr. Cheng, nice to see you again," Ron nodded at him, and turned his attention to the other man. "This is Jane; she's here to help out. I'm not much of a businessman."

"I am Mr. Cheng's humble translator," he explained, shaking my hand.

"So," I began, "Trevor told me that he's looking to close a deal with you. I take it he showed you the facilities?" He nodded at me. "Good, good. And you liked what you saw, yeah?"

He looked apprehensive. "We've been pursuing another deal." I led him outside, with Ron and Mr. Cheng trailing behind us.

"Look, I'm not Trevor. I'm not gonna threaten you or get violent or start shouting at you." I stepped towards him, trying to sound as stern as possible. "I can't promise that he'll show you the same decency, though. He wants to make this work with you. What can I do to convince you?"

"Well, we're just looking for a larger operation."

I sighed, becoming annoyed. I had just begun to see why Trevor became so frustrated so easily. "We are a larger operation. Who's offering you something better?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he told me nervously.

I rolled my eyes at him, planting my feet firmly against the ground and sticking my hands on my hips. "Just fucking tell me, would ya?"

"We've decided to make a deal with the O'Neils."

"Jesus Christ," I exhaled. "Trevor's gonna lose his mind. Please, reconsider. There might be more of them, but I can promise you, Trevor more than makes up for that. Plus, if you go with them, I guarantee Trevor'll kill every one of 'em before you can get anywhere with them."

He held up his hands in defeat, looking extremely nervous. "I will discuss it with Mr. Cheng's father. We will keep in touch, okay?"

"Alright," I sighed, feeling as if I had let Trevor down.

"That was good, Jane. Real good," Ron reassured me. I spent the rest of the day sitting on the porch knitting, listening to Ron's radio chattering away.

Around 11 pm, I heard from Trevor. "Good news and bad news," he told me, "Good news is, we all got outta there alright. Bad news, it was all for fucking nothing. We had to return the device we stole. Fuckin' Lester said it would 'cause World War III if we kept it.'"

"I'm glad you're safe," I exhaled. "I miss you. I'm gonna see if I can pick up a few shifts across the street while I'm here."

"Good idea."

"I hate being out here alone," I pouted.

"I know, darlin'. But I've got Ron lookin' out for you, and you can come back out in a few of days and we'll spend some time together."

"Sounds good. I'm gonna go to bed, baby. I love you."

"Love you, too," he responded before hanging up the phone. I turned in for the night, falling asleep with the TV blaring and the bedroom light still on.

* * *

The three days I spent in Sandy Shores without Trevor dragged by. I spent my time either working or sitting on the porch with Ron, who seemed happy to have some company. I was excited to see Trevor again as I drove back out to the city.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, cupcake!" Trevor exclaimed as he greeted me by my car, wrapping me up tight in his arms. "Hope you brought your bikini; we're going to the beach."

I clapped my hands together and skipped ahead of him up to the apartment. He stood at the kitchen counter drinking a beer and shouting at Floyd while I changed into my bathing suit, and tied my sarong around my waist.

"I'll drag you out to the desert and tear you apart if ya keep it up, Floyd! Turn ya out to the coyotes," Trevor barked as I emerged from the bathroom. I smacked his arm when I approached him, signaling for him to be quiet.

"Floyd, he's kidding," I reassured the nervous wreck of a man standing in front of us. "You ready, Trev?" He nodded at me and followed behind me out to the beach, looking like a lost puppy.

"You're going to burn up out here," he told me as he rubbed sunscreen into my skin, moving aside the strings of my bikini to cover every inch of my back.

"Hence the sunscreen," I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm. He grunted in response, wiping away the residual sunscreen on his hands onto his jeans. He was the only person I knew who wore jeans and a t-shirt to the beach. I guess living in the desert for ten years would force anyone to acclimate to the heat. He watched me with hungry eyes as I dug through my beach bag and pulled out a blanket to lay down in the sand.

"You look good in that bikini, babe," he told me, his voice filled with lust, and I glanced back at him just in time to see him adjusting himself through his jeans, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "It's real tiny. Practically a thong." The man was a predator, I swear.

I smirked at him as I plopped down next to him on the blanket. "Maybe later you can see what's under it," I purred into his ear. He emitted a low growl, and wrapped his arm around my waist, tugging me closer to him. "Are you hungry?" I asked him.

"How can you ask me that? 'Am I hungry?' Of fuckin' course I'm hungry. I'm always hungry. If I'm not hungry, I'm horny. Right now, I'm both."

I laughed at his response, choosing not to respond. "I'll go get us some burgers from one of the stands on the boardwalk, okay?" He nodded at me enthusiastically, and I grabbed my wallet out of my bag, making my way up the beach and into the crowds of people. I shouted my order to the man behind the register, trying to make myself heard over the sizzling grill and the men working in the kitchen behind him. As I waited for my order, I was approached by a man who looked to be around my age, and I could tell what his goal was.

"Nice bikini," he told me, leaning on the counter beside me, "It's a good color on you; I like it."

"Yeah, I bet you do," I rolled my eyes, looking over the counter at my order being made, hoping he'd get the hint and leave.

"I'm Brian," he told me. Ah, so he didn't get the hint.

"And I'm not interested."

"C'mon, baby, don't be like that," he pressed, pulling off his baseball cap and flipping it around so it was backwards on his head.

"I'm not your baby," I snapped, and then held up my left hand to show him my ring. "I'm engaged."

"Aw, please; it ain't over until you say 'I do.'"

I looked at him seriously. "Look, Brian, I'm sure you're like a really fun guy or whatever, but I'm just here to get my order, not to be harassed by some Axe-wearing, wife beater gym rat. I'm not interested in the flirting, and I'm not interested in you." God, Trevor was wearing off on me. When I was with Spencer, I would've tolerated this guy until he chose to leave me alone.

His expression quickly shifted to one of anger, and he looked indignant. "Listen, I was just trying to pay you a fucking compliment," he shot back, "You don't gotta be a bitch about it. Keep that up and someone's gonna put you in your place."

I scoffed, shooing him away with my hand. "Oh, I'm so scared. Move along."

He stalked away from me, looking angry and defeated, and I smiled to myself, reveling in my newfound ability to get people to leave me alone. I thanked the man behind the counter as he handed me my order, and I headed back out towards the beach, balancing a beer bottle, a can of Sprunk, and the box of burgers in my hands.

"Hey!" I heard someone shout, and I looked off to the side to see three men quickly approaching me, one of which was the meat head who had been harassing me just a few minutes earlier. He was joined by two other men, who more or less looked just like him. "You bitch!"

They encircled me, staring down at me as I tried to walk away. "I'm really not in the mood for this, guys. I'm hungry and I just want to eat."

The second guy, who wore a Sub Urban t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, grabbed me by my arm, yanking me towards him. "Don't be so standoffish. If you keep that up, you'll never find a man."

"I've got a man," I shot back at him, "And he'll kill you if you keep grabbing me like that." The three of them shared a laugh, and moved closer to me, putting their hands on me and pushing me around. "Get your hands off of me!" I yelled, having officially lost my patience. I tried to hide the anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach. The last time someone put their hands on me like that was when Spencer nearly killed me.

"We will," the third one stepped in, "As soon as we're done with you." And with that, the three of them were shoving me into the men's public restroom, knocking the food and drinks out my hands. I watched at the glass beer bottle shattered on the ground behind me, and I shrieked for help as they pushed me into a bathroom stall. The restroom was empty, and as I screamed, it seemed to me that help was not going to come. They clawed angrily at my sparse clothing, yanking my sarong off and tugging at my bikini top until it untied. It fell to the floor and I cried out and tried to hide my exposed chest from them. Their hands were on my neck, in my hair, sliding down towards my bikini bottoms.

And then, like a shining beacon; like a miracle, he showed up, just like he had done so many times before. The stall door swung open violently, and he stood tall, aiming a pistol at the man who nearly had his hand in my bikini bottoms.

"You've got half a second to get the fuck away from my woman or I'll blow your fucking heads off! All three of ya!" Trevor's voice rang out, reverberating off of the tile walls. They froze and stared at him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting him to pull a gun on them."Now! Get the fuck out!" They threw their hands up in defeat, inching away from me. His gaze followed the three of them as they sprinted out of the bathroom, disappearing as quickly as they could.

He whirled around and I threw myself at him, sobbing into his shirt as I tried to calm myself down. My breathing was shaky and panicked, and Trevor held me close, stroking my hair and rubbing my back. I had been abducted by The Lost and had my life threatened; somehow this felt worse.

Trevor's eyes followed mine as I stared down at my bikini top on the filthy men's room floor. "Here." He pushed the stall door closed behind him and pulled away from me. He yanked his shirt off over his head and helped me slip into it.

"How did you know I was in here?" I asked him, still trying to catch my breath. He looked down at me and brushed away a tear from my face with his thumb.

"I was wondering what was taking so long. I couldn't find you and then I heard screaming coming from in here. Knew it was you."

I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek to his bare chest. "I feel like I need a shower." I felt gross and violated, and I just wanted to wash everything away.

He gathered my clothes off of the floor and held my hand as he walked me out into the sunlight. I followed him out onto the beach as he gathered our things quickly, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we stepped back into the apartment. Wade was standing in the living room, and looked at me with concern when he saw my teary eyes and reddened nose.

"Don't worry about it," Trevor told him before he could ask what was wrong. Trevor watched me as I gathered some clothes and a towel and headed into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway, blocking me from shutting the door. "Can I join you?" He asked. I looked down at my feet. I was never one to turn down a shower with my fiancé, but at the moment, I felt dirty and embarrassed. "No funny business, I swear," he added in. "I just want to be close to you."

I couldn't say no to that. I pulled him into the bathroom, pressing a kiss to his lips, and started the water, keeping it nice and cool after coming out of the hot sun. "You'd be proud of me," I told him as he stepped into the shower behind me. "I was a real bitch to that fucker with the hat before they came at me. Real ruthless." I tried to hide a small smile from him.

"Very proud," he beamed at me, and I knew he meant it.


	12. Let's

Trevor didn't like to tell me too much about what he was doing with his time; he said that the more I knew, the more it made me an accessory, and he didn't want me mixed up in that world. All I knew was that he had been keeping very busy with Michael and Franklin, leaving me with lots of free time. Despite what Trevor thought, spending time with Wade actually wasn't too bad.

"Thanks for gettin' me ice cream, Jane," Wade said happily as we got back to Floyd's apartment. He held open the door for me and let me in ahead of him, and I slipped off my shoes in the foyer before heading into the kitchen.

"Can I help you with your puzzle?" He asked innocently, watching me take a sip from the water bottle in my hand.

I smiled at him. "Of course." He trailed along behind me to the dining room table, where a large, partially constructed puzzle sat. He sat quietly beside me, browsing through the pieces and trying to fit them together. "Wade," I said, breaking up the silence, "When is Debra coming back? Isn't she going to be upset that we're all here?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, sounding completely unbothered, "She'll be real mad. She's probably comin' back soon."

I changed the subject. "Did Trevor tell you where he was going?" If Trevor wasn't going to tell me what he was up to, I was going to try and find out from a different source. He shook his head.

"He didn't say."

I sighed, resting my chin in my hand. I watched Wade as he assembled part of my puzzle, eventually becoming bored and going to lie down on the sofa and watch TV. "Hey, Wade, I'm gonna go take a nap, okay? I'm feeling sort of tired," I lied. Trevor's absence was beginning to take its toll on me. I missed him and things felt lonely. I had told my boss at the Chinese food restaurant that I would be gone for a while, and not having a job to go to left me bored and lethargic. I laid in bed on my phone for a while, trying to distract myself from the gnawing feeling of loneliness in the pit of my stomach. Somewhere around 4:30 pm, I fell asleep, phone still in hand and glasses on my face.

I woke up sometime in the evening, blinking in the darkness that had settled over the room. I dragged my hands over my face and groaned. Somehow, I felt even more tired than I had before my nap. I rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand; it was 7 pm. I stared up at the ceiling for what felt like ages before hearing the front door open and close. I rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and stepped out of the bedroom.

"Trev?" I mumbled, looking at his form in the darkness.

"Hey," He muttered as I flipped on the light. I smiled, stepping closer to him and taking his hands in mine.

"You were out late tonight," I stated, pulling him into the kitchen to look at him under a brighter light. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and his clothes were caked with blood and dirt. "What happened?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," he snapped. I let out a frustrated huff, and disappeared into the bathroom to get some medical supplies.

"Come sit down with me, babe. I'll clean you up." He nodded and pulled off his shirt as he followed me into the living room. I ran some warm water over a washcloth and sat down next to him on the couch. I wiped the dirt and blood away from his face and chest, looking at him softly. He seemed distant, tense; almost sad. "Is everything okay?"

He furrowed his brow, looking irritated with me. "I'm fine. I told you I don't wanna talk about it."

I shook my head as I cleaned out his cuts, carefully wiping away the dried blood. "Sorry, I just thought maybe-"

"I don't," he repeated, sounding angry with me. "Why can't you ever just take no for an answer?"

I looked at him with a wounded expression. "Trevor, I've been worried about you," I tried to speak calmly, "You've been out and about for days; I've hardly seen you, and then you finally come back, and you're hurt, covered in blood, and clearly high."

"I'm not-"

"Don't lie to me," I shot back, cutting him off midsentence. "You're only mean when you've smoked up a ton."

"I don't feel like talking about this with you," he waved a hand at me dismissively, storming away from me. I followed him around as he grabbed a towel and a pair of sweatpants from the bedroom. I touched his arm as he headed towards the bathroom, and he whirled around to face me. "I've been in Sandy Shores. I saw my mom."

"Oh." My heart sank. I had heard about his relationship with his mother; the neglect and the verbal abuse he endured as a child, and the fear and shame she had instilled in him. She was the only person in the world that Trevor feared. "She's out of prison?"

He nodded at me. "I tried to get her what she wanted." His voice was quiet and I heard it waver as he spoke again, "But she left."

"She left?" I repeated.

He nodded, suddenly blinking back tears. "She left before I could get back. I tried my best! I tried to make her happy!" I stepped forward, cupping his face in my hands and standing on my toes to kiss his forehead.

"Baby, there's nothing more you can do. If she's going to leave, that's not your fault. It's not anything you did wrong." I held him in my arms as he fought back tears.

"It's what I didn't do," he sniffled. "I should've gone to visit her while she was locked up. Or written. I just couldn't handle seeing her, Jane, I couldn't!" He collapsed on the floor, covering his face with his hands. I knelt down in front of him, scooting close to him to rub his shoulders.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Trevor. You can't blame yourself for this. You've said it yourself in the past; she's got some issues. You can't fix them. Only she can."

He shook as he cried, and I tried to make sense of the situation. I had never seen Trevor cry before, and it was destroying me to watch it happening. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek against his shoulder. "You know I'm here for you, love."

"I need you," he sobbed. "Please don't leave! I need you!"

"Why would I leave?" I asked him softly.

"I'm an asshole! I left you for days and then I come back drunk and high and I treat you like shit! I don't deserve you!"

I ran my fingers through his thinning hair, and pressed a few light kisses along his jawline. "Everyone deserves love. And I love you." He let out a shaky breath, and listened to me as I spoke. "Trevor, I was at my lowest point when you showed up. I was scared and alone and if I didn't die, I probably would have killed myself. I was just a depressed girl who let herself get beat up in the name of love. Baby, you showed me what love really is."

"I don't know how to love somebody without hurting them," he whispered.

"Nobody does. You've just had less practice. If you hurt me, I'll still be here."

He let out a quiet sob at my words, and leaned his head into the crook of my neck. "Why didn't my parents want me? Why did no one ever want me?"

My heart broke, and I squeezed him tight in my arms. "They didn't know what they were giving up."

"I'm nothing."

"Trevor," I whispered, "You are everything."

* * *

"Don't get up yet," I whined, trying to pull Trevor back into bed. He let out a contented sigh, and pulled the covers back up over him.

"I really have to meet up with the guys, cupcake," he pressed. I let out another whine, wrapping my arms around him and looking up at him with big eyes. I scooted closer to him and tilted my head up to press a kiss to his lips. "You make it real hard to get anything done, you know that?"

"I know," I giggled, "You love it."

"I really do need to get up soon, though."

I climbed on top of him and took his face in my hands. "How long do you have before you have to go?" I asked quietly.

He raised his eyebrows at me, and a cheeky grin spread across his face. "Long enough," he told me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me flush against his chest. "You got any ideas what we can do with that time?"

"I've got a few," I answered, grinding my hips down against him. His hands slipped down my sides and tugged the bottom of my nightie up towards my waist.

"Y'know, maybe you should get up. Wouldn't want to leave the guys waiting," I teased, pushing his hands away from my backside. He dropped his head back down on the pillow, looking annoyed with me.

"They can eat a whole bag of dicks if they don't like it. I got better things to do." His voice was deep and gravelly, and he rolled his hips in time to meet mine as I rubbed myself against the growing bulge in his underwear.

"You seem like you've got some ideas," I purred into his ear before pressing my mouth to his neck and nipping at the sensitive skin stretched across his collarbone.

"Oh, I've got ideas," he growled, plucking at the strap of my nightie. "Let's get this thing off." He grabbed onto the hemline of the garment, tugging it up and over my head. He threw it carelessly onto the floor, completely distracted by my bare chest. He groped me with rough, calloused hands, staring up at my breasts with a predatory glare. He wet his lips with his tongue, and I took it as an invitation. I felt his tongue probing for entrance as I kissed him, and I let out a quiet whimper as his fingers brushed against my nipple. He smirked against my lips, knowing full well what he was doing to me.

"Seems like something got you all worked up, eh?" He teased as he rubbed his fingers against the wet patch on my panties. He tugged them aside, making contact with sensitive bundle of nerves between my thighs, and I let out a shaky breath when he began rubbing me in slow circles with his thumb. He used his free hand to brush a few loose strands of hair away from my face before clamping down on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His other hand picked up speed, and my eyes fluttered shut, giving into the feeling. And then it stopped.

I looked down at him in confusion, rotating my hips, begging for him to continue what he was doing. His eyes were dark and he looked at me with pure lust. "Please, Trev," I whined, "Please touch me."

He smirked at me. "That's what I like to hear," he growled. He sighed, suddenly sinking his middle finger into my core and pumping it slowly. I let out a satisfied sigh and pressed my lips together, grabbing at his arms when he slid in a second finger. He worked me faster, and an involuntary whimper escaped me when he pressed his thumb against the little bundle of nerves once again.

"Oh, yes," I sighed. He watched me with hungry eyes, looking satisfied with himself every time I shuddered.

"Alright," he grunted, stopping what he had been doing, and flipped me over onto my back. "I can't take it anymore." He tugged down my panties in one fluid motion, losing them in the sheets, and pried my thighs apart. He drank in the sight; me completely nude in front of him, waiting to be touched again. "Fuck, princess, you are perfect, you know that?"

I reached towards him and palmed him through his underwear, watching the way he shuddered in response to my touch. He jumped into action, pulling off his underwear, and lunged towards the nightstand. He grabbed at his wallet and slid a condom out of it, which he proceeded to tear open hastily. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him slide the condom down over his length. He leant forward, planting one hand on the pillow beside my head to support his weight, and guided himself towards my slit. He teased me, slowly rubbing against me, looking at me expectantly.

"Please, Trevor." I pleaded with him, lifting my hips off the bed. He used his hand to press me back down against the mattress, and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart." He loved doing this; he would tease me and make me beg him until he finally caved and gave me what I wanted.

"C'mon," I pleaded, "Just do it."

He shook his head and smirked. "Ask nicely."

"Please, baby," I whined, wriggling around underneath him, "I need it. Please."

"Good girl," he purred into my ear, and slowly slid inside of me, sucking in a burst of air through his teeth when he buried himself to the hilt. We shared a breathy moan, and he slid his free hand under my head as he slipped in and out of me, slowly; gently. God, he could get me worked up like nothing else. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of him inside of me. My eyes shot back open when he picked up speed, tangling his hand in my hair and pulling me closer to him. He pressed his lips to me, frantically leaving little purple marks all over the soft skin on my neck.

"God, you're so wet," he groaned, "How do you feel so fucking good?" His words only spurred me on; I wrapped my legs around his waist and gripped him tighter, digging my short nails into the toned muscles of his upper arms.

"Oh God, Trevor," I whimpered, reaching up to kiss him fervently.

"That's right, kitten." His hips snapped into me faster and rougher, making my breasts bounce and my breathing hitch. "Say my name." His forehead was clammy as he pressed it against mine, grunting with every thrust into me. His hand snaked down between us, and he pressed his thumb against my pearl just like before, rubbing me in time with his thrusts.

"Shit, Trev..." I let out a lusty groan, my voice wobbling and cracking as I spoke up again, "I'm close."

He nodded his head, trying to get out the words as he answered me. "M-me too. Fuck... Oh, God." His breathing was quick and shallow as he dropped his head against my shoulder. "God, I love you," he choked out, "I really do."

I wrapped my arms around him and dug my nails into his back, making him shudder and slam his hips into me. "I'm gonna come!" I moaned. He looked at me hungrily; the look in his eyes was wild and filled with desire.

"Come for me, kitten," he demanded, and I could tell he was seconds away from his own climax. I kissed him frantically, moaning against his lips as I approached the edge. He wrapped a hand around my throat, and with that, I was gasping and moaning against him, reveling in the intense feeling of my climax.

He pressed kisses all over me; my neck, my jawline, all over my face, and climaxed with a loud, shaky groan. "Jesus Christ!" He wailed, desperately grabbing onto me as he came down from his high. I cupped his face with a shaky hand as he collapsed on top of me, and he hummed in appreciation when I stroked his hair.

"Ohh, thank you," he sighed.

"I love you." My voice was rough and breathless, and my chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. He rolled off of me, pulling off the condom and tying it in a knot. He tossed it haphazardly towards the trash can in the corner, shrugging when he missed.

"I love you," he parroted me, adding in, "You are a goddess, you know that?" I smiled sweetly at him, wriggling closer to him and laying my head against his shoulder as we both sat up. "Okay," he sighed, sounding disappointed, "Now I really do need to go." He stood up on shaky legs, grabbing some wrinkled clothes off of the floor, and leaned over to plant a kiss on my forehead. "God, I can never get enough of you," he exhaled, shaking his head as he left the room.

* * *

"Trevor?"

"Yes, beautiful?" He answered from the kitchen.

"Do you think you could get me some more ginger ale while you're in there?" I was curled up in bed, awash in a sea of blankets, trying to ignore the feeling of nausea coursing through me. I had been sick for two days before, this one being the third. I tried to wrap the blankets around me tighter, but I still felt freezing. Trevor stepped into the bedroom holding a glass of ginger ale and a plate of toast. I shook my head as he tried to hand me the plate.

"Please," he tried to reason with me, "You haven't eaten anything in two days." He sighed when I refused to take the plate from him, and chose to put it down on the nightstand beside me instead. He pressed his palm to my forehead. "Jesus, you're burning up." He disappeared from the bedroom and returned a minute later, holding a bottle of aspirin. "Here," he said, dropping two pills into my hand.

"Weren't you supposed to be meeting up with the guys tonight?" I asked weakly.

"I've got more important things to do," he answered, sitting down on the bed next to me. He inched closer to me, and stroked my hair with a gentle hand. "I guess you're not seeing Katie today, huh?"

I groaned in response. "Shit, I forgot about that. I told her a few days ago to come over here tonight."

"Do you still want her to?"

I shrugged. "She's seen me sick before. Might be a good distraction. Besides, that way you can still go out and do what you need to do."

"I'm not leaving you," he told me resolutely.

"I'll be fine, baby. Could you just help me take a shower before Katie gets here?"

"Of course," he answered. In one swift motion, he had scooped me up into his arms and carried me into the bathroom. I sat on the lid of the toilet seat as Trevor ran the water, and he looked at me with sympathetic eyes. He helped me undress, pulling the oversized t-shirt I had been wearing over my head and dropping it on the floor. He stood me up and slipped me out of my pajama pants, and helped me into the tub. He followed suit, undressing himself and stepping in behind me.

"Hi," I whispered, looking up at him with a tired expression.

"C'mere, sweetheart." Gently, he tugged me towards him until my head was resting on his chest. I blinked away the water that had run down over my face, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt dizzy and weak, but mostly I felt needy and clingy. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed some into his palm before gently lathering my hair. I hummed in appreciation as he massaged it into my scalp, being careful not to get any in my eyes.

"Thank you for taking care of me," I mumbled as I leaned back into the stream of water to rinse the suds out of my hair. He smiled down at me.

"You don't have to thank me," he told me, reaching for the bar of soap. He lathered me up slowly, touching me as if I was made of porcelain. "I just want you to feel better."

I let out a weak laugh as he helped me rinse off. "Yeah, me too."

He frowned at me as he helped me dry off. "Are you sure you'll be okay if I leave?"

I kissed his cheek softly, and nodded. "Katie will take care of me."

Back in the bedroom, Trevor slipped his LoveFist t-shirt over my head, and helped me into a pair of sweatpants. I sighed as I climbed under the blankets, shivering at the feeling of my wet hair pressed against the back of my neck. Just as I grabbed the remote to turn on the TV, I heard a knock at the front door. I listened as Trevor answered, greeting Katie in the foyer.

I glanced up as the bedroom door opened. Katie scurried over to the other side of the bed and sat down beside me. "Hi, Janie," she said softly, rubbing my shoulder.

"So," Trevor began, drawing Katie's attention back to him, "I've been giving her aspirin pretty regularly for her fever. There's ginger ale in the kitchen, and some more blankets in the other bedroom if she wants them. She hasn't eaten much, so if you can get her to eat some toast or something-"

"I got it," Katie interrupted him, "I've taken care of her before. Don't worry, big guy." He nodded, and came around my side of the bed to kiss me on the forehead. "I'll be back later tonight, okay, beautiful? Call me if you need anything. I love you."

"I love you, too," I called back to him as he left the room. I listened as the front door opened and closed behind him, and then turned to look at Katie.

"Let me see your ring!" She demanded, tugging at my left hand. "That's gorgeous," she sighed. She kicked off her shoes and climbed under the blankets with me. "So, Eric and I have been starting to plan our wedding, and I just can't decide what color goes well with a wine red. I was thinking a light shade of purple, but is that too-"

"Katie," I cut her off, "I think I'm pregnant."


	13. This Year

Accurate results in just three minutes. I stared at the box of pregnancy tests in my hand. My hands shook as I opened it up, and I felt cold and clammy. I was on birth control; the risk of pregnancy was so minuscule that it almost wasn't even worth thinking about. But I had missed a period and I'd been feeling sick lately. Stranger things had happened.

Three minutes is a long time when you're as anxious as I felt. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the floor in front of me. My phone buzzed against the tile floor as Trevor called me; I let it go to voicemail. I felt guilty ignoring him, but I couldn't tell him what was going on; not until I knew for sure. I knew he would panic, and I wasn't ready to face that.

The timer on my phone went off, and I stood up on shaky legs. I stared into the mirror, daring myself to look down at the tests in the sink. It had to be negative; there was no way I could be pregnant. I picked up the first test and turned it over.

Positive. I fought back tears as I tried to calm myself. It wasn't a big deal; sometimes pregnancy tests were wrong. Besides, I still had one more test to look at. Maybe that one would be negative.

Positive. I sank back down on the edge of the tub, covering my face with my hands. I felt tears escape from my eyes and run down my cheeks, and I let out an uneven breath. I was pregnant. I wasn't ready to have a baby. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to be ready. I had to tell Trevor. I tried to make sense of the situation, but my mind was a mess of confusion and panic. I pictured how Trevor would react to the news. Images of him yelling and screaming or storming out swirled around my brain, and I scrambled to my feet to grab both pregnancy tests.

I rushed into the bedroom and stuffed the evidence into the pocket of my overnight bag. Trevor couldn't know yet. I had to emotionally prepare myself before I told him. I crawled into bed, pulling the sheets up to my neck, and stared at the ceiling as the sun set, bathing the room in darkness.

I jumped when I heard the door open and shut. I heard footsteps and I immediately identified them as Trevor's. The door cracked open, and he looked at me through the darkness. "Are you awake?" He whispered.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm up." He sat down next to me on the bed, leaning over me to press a kiss to my forehead.

"I missed you," he told me, peppering my face with kisses. He brushed the hair away from my eyes and took my hand in his. "You wanna go get something to eat?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

He paused, looking at me with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answered, "I'm just tired."

"Okay." He still sounded concerned as he took my hand in his. "Why don't you go get ready, and I'll figure out someplace to go."

I nodded at him as I climbed out of bed. I gathered my clothes and my makeup bag and disappeared into the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was going to be a mother, and I didn't feel even somewhat close to prepared. I cupped my hands under the faucet and rinsed my face in cold water. I tried to calm myself as I did my makeup in the mirror, eventually managing to talk myself down from a panic attack.

"Hey, Trev, did you decide where you want to-"

I stopped dead in the bedroom doorway, a wave of panic rushing through me. Trevor stood in front of me, holding the pregnancy tests in his hands and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "How long have you known?" He asked me. His voice was low and quiet, and he sounded angry.

"Just since this afternoon," I told him, wringing my hands nervously.

His voice grew louder as he spoke again, and I stepped backwards, bumping into the doorframe. "And when were you going to tell me?" He asked.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. "I was just waiting for the right time."

"The right time," he scoffed. "This isn't possible." He ran his fingers through his hair, and pushed past me, stepping out into the hallway. "How did this happen?"

"Well, we didn't use a condom that one night," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice from wobbling.

"But you're on the pill!" He was getting frantic. "This is impossible!"

"Love, I-"

He cut me off, "I always thought I was shootin' blanks! There's no fuckin' way you can be pregnant!"

"I took two tests," I mumbled.

"No, no, no, this isn't happening! We cannot have a kid! I cannot be a father!" He had begun pacing back and forth; he always did when he was panicked or angry. "I can't do this!"

Tears stung my eyes as I watched him pace. "Trevor, I'm scared, too," I told him quietly, trying to stop him in his tracks with a gentle hand on his arm. The door swung open behind us, and I turned to find Floyd standing in the foyer staring at us both.

"No!" Trevor yelled, pointing at the door. "Not now! Get the fuck out, Floyd!" He turned back to me as the door slammed shut. "I can't do this."

"What are you saying?" I asked him, tears running down my face.

"I'm fuckin' sayin' I can't be a father! I'm a goddamn criminal, Jane! I'm a meth addict and a drunk and I'm a fucking mess! I can't even take care of myself! How am I supposed to take care of a kid?"

"Trevor-"

"I gotta get outta here. I can't do this right now," he stated, trying to reel in his emotions. He stormed out the door, letting it swing shut behind him with a loud thud. I threw myself onto the couch, shaking as I cried. Things had gone just about as terribly as I had imagined. Who else could I rely on if Trevor left? My parents would never support the situation I had gotten myself into. Marjorie was tied up in college and her new relationship, and Katie was getting married soon. She'd be busy with her own life. I was alone; completely alone. I spent four hours on the couch, trying to drown my worries in reruns on TV and chocolate chip cookies.

* * *

It was 9 pm when Trevor came back. He stepped inside quietly, stood in front of me and turned off the TV without a word. I looked up at him like an animal caught in a trap. "Hi," I nearly whispered.

He sat down on the coffee table across from me, so our knees were almost touching, and looked at me seriously. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," he told me. My heart raced as I waited for him to speak up again; I had never heard him sound so serious before. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, Jane. I don't know how to deal with any of this."

"It's okay," I told him. He shook his head in disagreement.

"It's not okay." He paused. "But I'm gonna try." His hands clamped down over mine, and he continued, "I'm gonna do what I need to do for you and for this baby. I've been walking away from every difficult situation my entire life. I can't do that anymore. You didn't get pregnant on your own. I gotta take responsibility." I pulled my hands away from his, choosing instead to lean forward and wrap my arms around him. "I'm scared shitless," he whispered.

"I am too," I admitted. I felt his hands tangle into my hair, and he pulled away from me to look me in the eye.

"I love you. And I'm going to love this baby. I know I'm a mess right now. I'm an addict and I'm crazy and I come home drunk and make you take care of me. It's my turn to take care of you. I'm gonna get clean, Jane. I'm gonna get help. I'm going to be there for you and I'm gonna take care of you and this baby."

I smiled at him as I spoke up, "Trevor Philips, you are evolving."

"Maybe just a little." He rolled his eyes and smiled back at me. "Are you still hungry?" He asked, changing the topic.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I ate a lot of cookies while you were gone."

He chuckled at my comment. "So you don't want to go out?"

I shook my head. "I would like to go home, though."

* * *

I hadn't seen Trevor in three days. He didn't call, didn't text, and one of the planes was missing from his hangar. Ron and Wade were clueless as to where he went, and Michael was missing, as well. Franklin was as much in the dark as I was, and I was filled with panic. My calls went unanswered and my texts went unnoticed. He stumbled through the front door of his trailer at the end of the third day, red-faced and angry. He took one look at Wade and I sitting on the couch and snapped, "Wade, get the fuck out or I'll rip you apart!"

"God almighty, Trevor!" I began. I was as angry as I was relieved to see him. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"North Yankton," he replied, sounding completely unbothered. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and stood at the kitchen counter, downing half the bottle at once.

"North Yankton?" I repeated. "You'd better have a damn good reason for not calling or texting me! I thought you were dead!"

"Michael lied," he blurted out. He pulled off his shoes and threw them against the wall near the bathroom, and raised his voice as he spoke again, "That fat fuck lied to me! Brad's dead! Been dead for the last ten years!" I stared at him as he downed the rest of his beer, slamming the bottle back down onto the counter so hard that I was surprised it didn't shatter. "Cheng and his guys took Michael. They're probably gonna kill him."

"You're not going to do anything about it?"

"Fuck no, I'm not!"

"He's your friend, Trevor!" I stood in front of him, still holding the sweater I had been knitting before he came home. "How are you going to sleep at night if he dies and you could have stopped it?"

"Like a baby," he shot back. "He fucked me over one too many times."

"So you're just going to let him die, then?"

"He left me for dead back in North Yankton. Didn't give a shit if I was still alive or not. He can get himself outta this," he said coldly.

"Trevor!" I shouted, "I can live with everything else that you do when you go off on your rampages, but this... letting your best friend die because you're angry at him? You're better than that! You're going to regret your decision if he dies!"

"Fucking Christ!" He thundered, "I'll text Franklin and tell him! He can go help if he wants to, but I'm not sticking my neck out again for that lying sack of shit!"

"Fine," I gave up, "Just text Franklin." He pulled out his phone and ignored me as he typed out a message, slamming his phone down on the counter when he was done. "I'm sorry about Brad," I sighed, trying to reel in my anger.

He shrugged. "I should've known he was dead." I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't call you."

"Please don't do that again, Trev. I was scared you were dead. You can't keep disappearing anymore; things have changed."

He nodded in agreement, moving his hand to press his palm against my stomach. "I'm trying, Jane."

I stood on my toes and planted a kiss on his lips, before changing the subject. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge. I would've saved you more, but Wade is a human garbage disposal."

He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated huff. "Would you stop spending your money on food for him? You work hard for that money; he can take care of himself."

"Trevor, despite what you think, Wade is actually good company. Especially when your fiancé abandons you for three days and doesn't text or call you."

"Alright, alright, I get it." he hissed. I sat across from him at the table as he devoured a slice of pizza; cold, of course.

"Trev, we need to come up with a game plan," I spoke up. "Our baby cannot live in this trailer." Although he had worked hard on refurbishing his home to accommodate me, it was still rundown, and much too small for more than the two of us. He scowled. "How about Paleto Bay?" I asked him cautiously. He groaned at my suggestion.

"What's wrong with Sandy Shores?" he asked me, already knowing the answer.

"Trev, everyone in this town is high as a kite on the meth that you're selling them. You know that. I know you love it out here, but it's not a good place for a kid. Paleto Bay is close enough that you can still make trips out here a few times a week to handle your business, and Chef and Ron can handle things here while you're gone."

"Ron can't even handle his way out of a fuckin' paper bag."

"Fine. Chef can handle things. You know he's capable," I told him. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"At least I didn't suggest Vinewood Hills," I told him, smiling sheepishly. He scoffed.

"Trevor, this could be good for both of us. Paleto Bay is nice. It's quiet and safe. We could find a nice house by the beach, tucked away from everything. I know you've spent years here on your own, love, but you're not alone anymore. You're going to have a family. I love you, Trevor, and I want a good life with you. You know this place can't give us that."

Trevor rested his chin in the palm of his hand, thinking over what I had just told him.

"We'll go out there tomorrow and start lookin' around," he told me, somewhat begrudgingly. I leapt towards him, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug.

"Really?"

"Anything for you, gorgeous."


	14. This Will Be Our Year

The following morning was hot and humid. My thick hair sat piled up in a messy bun on the top of my head. As Trevor kept his eyes on the long road in front of him, I looked into my compact mirror, dabbing concealer over the dark circles under my eyes. I hadn't gotten much sleep and Trevor was up and ready to hit the road by 8 am. He glanced my way, keeping a hand on the steering wheel.

"I don't know why you bother with that bullshit," he told me, looking at me over his sunglasses, "You don't need it."

"You're very sweet but I feel better with it on. More put together," I explained to him as I swiped a light dusting of blush over my cheek bones.

"If you wanted to look put together, you shouldn't have come out here with me," he joked.

"You look good today, Trev." I looked over at him, dressed in a red flannel shirt and a new pair of jeans and clean work boots. He looked good; really good.

We got into the small town of Paleto Bay around noon, stopping at Famous Hamburgers to get something to eat and use the bathroom before heading towards the beach to look around. Around 12:30, we pulled up to a house perched at the edge of a rocky hill, overlooking the beach. From the end of the gravel driveway, you could see a few houses that we had passed by on the way there, but this house sat a fair distance away, on its own at the end of the road. I noticed the For Sale sign sticking up out of the ground, with a sticker across the bottom of it. "Open House Today 10 am-5 pm," it said.

I gazed at the little ivy green house. On the front porch, two rocking chairs sat, moving ever so slightly in the breeze. I noticed a small grey cat curled up on one of them. Through the open windows, curtains brushed gently against the screens as the warm breeze passed through them. It was noticeably cooler in Paleto Bay than it was in Sandy Shores, but the sun warmed my skin, making me feel calm and content. The front lawn was large and brightly lit, with a small leafy tree in the middle, offering some shade, and a tiny flower garden underneath it.

"Trevor," I gasped, "this is beautiful. How did you know this was here?"

"I called Ron early this morning and had him do a little research for us." He flashed me a cocky grin, and hopped out of his weathered old Bodhi, coming around the back to open my door for me. I stood up, smoothing out my knee length yellow dress and followed him up the driveway to the front door.

A rather short, somewhat stocky man with blonde hair and silver glasses opened the door as we made our way up the steps on the porch. "I heard your truck pull up, I figured you were here for the open house?" he asked us, fidgeting with his tie.

Trevor cleared his throat, "Yes, my associate found this listing online for me." He straightened up when he said the word 'associate.'

The man nodded and smiled, "I'm Don. Pleasure to meet you both" he said, shaking Trevor's hand, and then moving onto mine.

"Trevor Philips," Trevor responded.

"Jane," I told him.

"Come on in, folks," he told us, "You can have a look around, get a feel for the place and if you like it, we can discuss finances, alright?" We nodded in agreement, and Trevor took my hand in his, leading the way.

Upon entering the home, I was greeted with the scent of fresh lemons and some sort of baked goods. Through the open windows, I could smell the salt water in the breeze. The entrance opened up into a small but airy living room, adorned in beach-related decor. The sunlight peeking in through the windows was bright enough that one could read a book, but dim enough to curl up on the couch and take an afternoon nap.

I looked past the living room into the kitchen. White cabinets hung on the walls over the stainless steel appliances. The counters seemed to be some sort of woodgrain, and a large window over the porcelain sink bathed the kitchen in sunlight. A wind chime hung from the window frame, ringing out a small, pleasant tune. Through the window, I could see a small grassy backyard that ended where the rocky ledge began. Over the small ledge, I could see the beach down the hill. The sand and the water would probably only be about a minute's walk away from the back door. Trevor looked down at me, and I squeezed his hand, grinning up at him.

"What do you guys think?" Don asked us, "Would you like to have a look around the upstairs?"

"Absolutely," I responded quickly, before Trevor even had a chance to speak. We followed Don back through the living room and up the staircase, which sat nestled up against the wall. At the top of the stairs, there was a little bathroom, also covered in beach-themed decorations. I heard Trevor scoff behind me as he looked at the wooden sign above the towel rack reading "I'd Rather Be at the Beach."

Down the little hallway were three bedrooms. One overlooked the front yard, and included a walk in closet. The other two boasted an incredible view of the beach. The little room at the end of the hall even had a window seat. I could picture our child sitting there reading or doing homework someday. My heart fluttered at the thought. Trevor looked down at me again, seeming to read my mind.

"This is it, isn't it?" he asked me quietly. I nodded at him, hugging him around his waist. "My man, Donnie!" Trevor called out from the bedroom, "Let's talk numbers!"

Don came in behind us holding a folder full of papers. He broke down the expenses for us, including down payment, closing fees, and the works. He read us the expenses off of a sheet of paper, finishing with the full amount: $450,000. "I must tell you, though," Don began, "There was another couple looking at the house this morning and they did put in an offer." My heart sank with the fear of losing the house to someone else.

"Screw them, I'll pay cash," Trevor responded quickly.

"Trevor!" I whispered, trying to bring him to his senses. He put his hand on my arm in reassurance, and continued.

"I'll pay you the full amount in cash, Donnie. I want this place for the future misses and I," he stated rather matter-of-factly. I gripped his hand nervously.

"Well, Mr. Philips, you drive a hard bargain. I can't turn that one down," Don told him, chuckling and shaking his hand once again.

That was it; this was the home where we would raise our child. My heart swelled at the thought of the two of us sitting on the front porch holding our newborn baby. I pictured Trevor on the beach, building a sandcastle with our child. It was perfect; everything I had wanted. As we headed home to Sandy Shores, reality hit me like a freight train. We had to juggle wedding planning, getting ready for the baby, and moving all at once. Great.

* * *

We got married at the vineyard in Vinewood Hills. Trevor was surprised to find that his guest list was actually larger than mine. He had patched things up with Michael, whose whole family attended. They were joined by Franklin, and the entirety of Trevor Philips Industries; Ron, Wade and Chef. The only people on my side who attended were my sister and her boyfriend, Katie and her fiancé Eric, and my parents, who had begrudgingly agreed to come.

"Janie bug, you look so beautiful," my sister cooed. I stood in front of a full length mirror as Marjorie helped me clip my veil into my hair.

I smiled at her. "Marjorie, I'm so happy you're here. Thank you for giving Trevor a chance."

"Hey," she answered me, "You love him. He clearly cares about you, and he deserves a fair chance."

"I wish mom and dad would see that, too," I sighed, looking down at my feet.

"They will, Jane. It's just gonna take time."

Katie sat perched on the edge of a chaise lounge behind us. "He's done so much for you, Janie. They'll see that," she chimed in. She had known my parents since we were kids. She practically lived at our house throughout our childhood, and my parents considered her to be their third daughter. She knew how difficult they could be, so her confidence about the situation meant as much to me as Marjorie's.

"Is everyone decent?" I heard Michael's voice call out through the door.

"Yes, Michael," I called back to him. The door cracked open and he stood in the threshold, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"We're ready when you are," he told me, and exited the room, gently closing the door behind him.

My sister and Katie grinned at me, both rushing forward to hug me. "Are you ready?" Katie said softly, leaning her head against my shoulder.

I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. I could only imagine what Trevor felt like in that moment. I pictured him standing at the altar, waiting for me, and suddenly, my eyes began to water. I felt overwhelmed with emotion.

"Oh, don't cry, Janie," Marjorie told me, rushing to dab away my tears with a tissue.

"Not yet." Katie grinned at me.

But as I walked down the aisle, I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. Trevor looked at me, his eyes soft, and a weak expression on his face as he tried to hold himself together. He smiled at me tenderly as I approached him, taking my hands in his, and my heart swelled. Who knew, that horrible night on the streets of Los Santos, that I would meet someone who would change me so much.

Somehow, I had convinced him that we should write our own vows. He visibly shook as he pulled a folded up sheet of paper out of his pocket. I almost felt guilty in that moment, seeing how nervous he looked to share his feelings in front of everyone. I knew his friends would never let him live this down.

"Jane," he started, his voice quiet and shaky, "Sweetheart, you've changed me. I spent almost ten years completely by myself; angry and full of hatred and spite for every other human being. But you; you came along and changed me for the better. There ain't anyone else for me. You are my everything, beautiful. And now, you're giving me a family; something I've never had before. I love you, and that gorgeous smile of yours, and everything else about you. I'm so ready to call you my wife."

I reached up to wipe the tears off of my face before speaking. I hadn't written anything down. I knew what I wanted to say. "Trevor... Love, you have done more for me in the time we've been together than most people do in a lifetime. I know you don't always like what you see when you look in the mirror, but I want you to always remember what I'm telling you now. You're perfect. You're sweet and you're caring; always supportive of me, and always there for me. You are my best friend, and you just so happen to be as handsome and charming as anyone could ever be. I know your past, and I know your future. You will always have a home by my side. You will always have a family, and you will always have me. I love you, Trev; more than anything in the world." He smiled sweetly at me as we were pronounced husband and wife, and he kissed me eagerly. That moment; that was everything. I had never seen Trevor so sweet, so vulnerable.

Our reception was... Interesting. My parents and Marjorie's boyfriend chattered away with Michael's family. I suppose they were the only ones who looked acceptable to them. Eric fell asleep in his chair after a few drinks, leaving Katie to drunkenly flirt with Franklin. The girl had no shame. Ron and Chef kept to themselves, and Wade had apparently become enamored by my sister, who looked slightly horrified.

"Wade, ya idiot, leave the poor girl alone," Trevor scolded him.

"What's wrong with him?" Marjorie whispered into my ear. I couldn't help but laugh.

"He's sweet, Marj. A little slow on the uptake, but sweet. He's my friend." She scoffed, leaving me alone with Trevor. She stumbled over her feet as she joined Katie. The two of them had clearly enjoyed the open bar a little too much.

"So," Trevor leaned in close, speaking in a low voice, "How about we go find a quiet place and consummate this marriage, eh?"

I swatted his wandering hands away and giggled at him. "You can wait until later," I answered, scrunching up my nose at him. I changed the topic. "I liked what you said earlier today. You are so sweet, love."

His hands moved to rest on my hips, and he looked at me with an amused expression. "Trevor Philips is not sweet," he said gruffly, "I am intimidating and dangerous."

"Not to me," I smiled. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his.

"You look beautiful," he whispered into my ear. I responded with another kiss.

The reception wrapped up around midnight when everyone was exhausted and slightly intoxicated; or very intoxicated in the case of Katie and Marjorie.

"Sweet baby Jane," Katie hiccupped, throwing an arm around me, "I'm so happy for you. You're beautiful and wonderful and I love you." I giggled as she clung to my arm. She tried to lower her voice to a whisper, but it still came out loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "Trevor has a hot wife. And you're gonna be a hot mom."

Trevor took my hand as we left the vineyard, waving goodbye to all of our guests. "I love you," I told him softly as we got into the back of the limo that had been waiting to take us to our hotel. He pulled me close to him in the backseat, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

"I love you, too."


	15. First Day of My Life

"Hellooo, beautiful!" I heard Trevor's voice ring out over the phone. I was relieved that he seemed to be in a good mood. "What's goin' on?"

"Trevor," I began, trying to keep my voice calm. I didn't want him to panic. "Baby, it's time."

"What?!" He shouted into the phone. So much for him not panicking. "No, no! I'm all the way out in Sandy Shores!"

"Love, it's okay. Katie was at the house with me. We just got to the hospital. There's plenty of time. Just head out here now and we'll be fine."

"I'm already on my way! I'll be there soon!" The words came tumbling out of his mouth all at once. "I love you," he added in before hanging up the phone in a rush.

I sat in my hospital bed, trying to ignore the contractions. Katie sat next to me, holding my hand each time a contraction came. "Is he gonna be here soon?" she asked, sounding nervous. I nodded at her. "Oh thank God," she exhaled, "because I am NOT prepared to go into the delivery room with you. That's his job. My job is to get you ice chips and distract you from the pain."

I was glad for that. I needed a distraction. This baby was far from planned, and although Trevor and I were excited about it, I had never fully prepared myself for the idea of childbirth. It was a terrifying thought to me, and I was filled with equal amounts of dread and excitement. I was just glad that I would have Trevor by my side.

My family had hung up the phone in a rush; the same way Trevor had, already jumping into the car and heading out towards Paleto Bay. Trevor had yet to win over my parents, but they couldn't hide their excitement over the thought of having a grandchild. Marjorie was just as excited to be an aunt.

"Janie," Katie pulled my attention back to her, "Why didn't you want to know the gender?"

I shrugged. "We wanted to be surprised."

"I hate surprises. Really inconsiderate of you two to put me through that," she joked. I swatted her hand away and laughed.

We spent two hours chattering away as my contractions grew closer together. I jumped at the sudden sound of metal trays falling against the floor in the hallway, and I heard multiple nurses trying to calm someone down.

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down! I got a kid comin'! Where's my wife?!" Ah. Trevor. He stormed into the room, being chased by two nurses. He waved his hands at them in an attempt to shoo them away, and stopped suddenly when his gaze landed on me. I smiled weakly at him, and he rushed to my side, grabbing my hand as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" He sounded out of breath, and he looked panicked as he stroked my arms and brushed my hair away from my face.

"I'm fine, baby. In pain, but fine. The doctor says it'll probably be soon. I'm glad you're here." I touched his cheek, and he turned to plant a kiss on my knuckles.

"Gross, you guys. Get a room," Katie told us, punctuating her joke with a laugh.

"You're in it," Trevor shot back. "Get the fuck out."

Katie sneered at him and turned her attention back to the magazine she had picked up on her way back from the ice machine. I was glad that Katie picked up on Trevor's sarcasm. It had a tendency to get him in trouble sometimes.

One of the nurses who had been tending to me entered the room, and Trevor's head shot up. He looked uncomfortable as she checked to see how dilated I was. "Well," she began with a grin, "Seems like it's time. You ready?"

This was it.

* * *

Her name was Coralie Olivia Philips, and she was beautiful. She looked just like Trevor, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. My family was completely enamored by her, as was Katie. Michael and Franklin had made the trip out to Paleto Bay to see her that evening, staying only for a short while before leaving us alone with Katie and my family.

"Aw, I want a baby," Katie sighed, looking at us from her seat in the corner of the hospital room.

"Eric is gonna shit himself when you tell him that," I laughed.

"I can't believe how tiny she is," Marjorie cooed, sitting next to me on the bed, looking over my shoulder at the baby. "I mean, I know she's normal sized, but she just seems so small."

Trevor sat back in his chair, watching everyone in the room like a hawk. He had been extremely cautious handing her over to everyone else to hold, like he was afraid to take his hands off of her.

My mother held out her hands to hold Coralie again, and Trevor cleared his throat awkwardly and sat forward in his seat. "I know, you're protective of your baby girl, Trevor," my mother acknowledged, even smiling at him as she said it.

My father approached Trevor, who stood up from his seat, looking cautiously at him. "Trevor," he sighed. "I know we've given you a hard time. You're older than our Janie bug and you just didn't seem like someone she would have picked to spend her life with. But clearly, she loves you very much, and vice versa. I'm sorry we got off to a rough start. I should be grateful that you gave us such a beautiful granddaughter." He extended a hand out for Trevor to shake, and I looked on with a smile. Amazing how someone so tiny and new to this world could bring everyone together.

Everyone left us alone in our hospital room later that night, and I let out a sigh as I looked over at Trevor. He was seated in the chair right next to my bed, holding Coralie and looking down at her with pure love in his eyes. This wasn't his life plan. He never planned on getting married; never planned on having a family. But that was because he resigned himself to being alone. He had hardened himself and let himself grow cold to the world around him. It was a defense mechanism.

Maybe I walked into his life just before he could turn himself to stone. Maybe I got there at just the right time. He always told me that he had given up before he met me, but I knew it wasn't true. How could he have grown to love me if there hadn't been at least a glimmer of hope left inside of him? I think he was holding onto that last shred of hope with all of his might. He was so desperate for love when I came to him; so starved of it.

He felt things more deeply than most people. His anger turned to rage, but his love also turned to pure adoration. He would do absolutely anything for me, and I knew he'd do the same for our daughter. We found each other for a reason. We needed each other. And now we had this tiny human who needed us both, and we would raise her together, in our little house by the beach.

Maybe I saved Trevor like he saved me. He never had a family. He grew up unloved and alone. He never let himself get close to people, because they always betrayed him or left him. But something invisible tied us together, and he knew I would never leave. He had a wife and a child who would love him forever, and I knew when I looked at him holding our daughter; he was finally whole.


End file.
